


in between words

by n_kei



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cheating, Complicated Relationships, Drama, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Internal Conflict, M/M, Romance, Self-Reflection, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-10-10 12:40:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 41,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17426093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/n_kei/pseuds/n_kei
Summary: A wandering Taeyong meets Jaehyun in New York City.





	1. 01

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is inspired by the film Lost in Translation. It is one of my favourite films ever, and I hope what I write carries the same sentiments. The title came from the Polish translation of the film, and the storytelling is my own.

The apartment is blue and bare save for the lone silhouette laying on the mattress on the ground, looking at the calendar on his cell phone. The sun is hours from rising, but that would explain for why his belongings are packed in a medium-sized suitcase- he has a red eye flight to catch. He rolls onto his back, sighing softly and palming his stomach in attempt to calm the unsettling feeling. It doesn't really work.

He turns to his side. Five more minutes until the taxi comes, carting him to the next adventure.

A door opens, and cool yellow light floods into blue.

“Ready?” calls the warm, low voice.

He slowly sits up as the bare feet pad towards him. A tall man with kind, sharp almond shaped eyes crouch to his eye level, brushing his bangs behind his ear.

“How are you feeling?"

“I'm okay.”

The silence hangs between them a beat longer, like his partner's letting him make up his mind again (and again, and again).

“Ready?” Comes the question, voice just above a whisper.

He nods, inhaling deeply. “Yeah.”

His partner scans the apartment one last time, making sure no equipment is forgotten, and checks his phone. “It'll be here in a minute,” he announces. He pulls on his socks and shuffles to squeeze his feet into well loved Doctor Marten’s.

Meanwhile, he stands up, straightens his clothes, and places his palm on the suitcase handle. He’s already dressed, socks and shoes and all. He breathes shallowly, staring at a black spot on the wall.

“Tae,” his partner calls.

“Coming,” he calls back.

With a decisive push, the suitcase breaks free from the hardwood floor and four wheels are set in motion through a door, down a set of stairs, and onto the taxi.

“Johnny, right?” The driver asks in English.

“Yes sir.”

“To the airport?”

“That's right.”

“Whereabouts are you guys heading?”

“New York, we'll be going to Terminal 3.”

“Okay, buckle up!”

“Done and done. Thank you, sir.”

“My pleasure. So, what are you doing in New York?”

“Oh, I was offered a job there. I'm actually a photographer-”

Taeyong stares out the window, drowning out the polite conversation and hiding into the soft recesses of his mind.

It’s not because they’re moving again (he’s always known that dating an award winning commissioned photographer would entail a lot of travelling), but it does get tiring. It’s November, and the coastal winds have started to pick up. He’s checked New York’s weather forecast, which echoes a colder temperature, and gathers his jacket closer around his body. It's getting a bit tough get out of bed, the bed being toastier than anywhere else, but it's not like he has anything else to do.

It would be nice if he had jobs, or even a contract waiting for him. He'd originally thought being a freelance dancer would give him the freedom to travel and work at the same time. It didn’t work as well as he'd hope for. He's done drop in classes here and there, and he milks those for what they're worth, but the bigger choreography contracts are harder to come by.

Still, he hustles, making ends meet, putting a little bit of money each paycheque into a savings account, spending the rest on rent, food, travel expenses, and lifestyle items. He used to spend a lot more, but he used to make a lot more money. Long story short, the previous connections he's had with dance and the dance community in Seoul has dwindled to loose strings that barely feeds a person, so it’s tough.

With a sigh, he smiles back at Johnny, resting a hand above the larger one on his lap in reassurance.

Seoul is his home base, but the significance of that lessens when his parents no longer talk to him after he came out. Though, ever since he's been travelling, discovering and rediscovering, planted only to be uprooted again, the definition of a home blurs.

If he were honest with himself, he's been feeling floaty for a while now.

“You should rest on the plane later. I'll get you some ginger ale, okay?” Johnny comforts, running a thumb along his palm.

“I'm okay, I think,” Taeyong reassures. “I'll rest on the plane.”

“That’s true, it’s a five hour flight,” Johnny smiles back, wrapping his larger hand around Taeyong’s and playing with the fingers between his.

Taeyong hums, staring out the window again.

 

The flight was long and frankly uncomfortable. He and Johnny are by no means short, (they could probably be models if they wanted), but they're travelling on a budget here so economy is the best they can do.

Taeyong sighs of relief as he waits by the luggage belt, keeping an eye for his cherry coloured suitcase and rubbing out the crick in his neck. Johnny echoes a similar sentiment as he twists and turns his shoulders to loosen the muscles.

“I'll get the Uber. What's the address of our hotel?” Taeyong says, pulling his phone out.

Johnny sees his black suitcase with a _Caution Fragile_ tape pasted over and perks up. “It's in the Upper West side, I'll send it to you in a sec.”

Taeyong hums, trying to look for a paper trail of the hotel information, then remembers to get a suitcase trolley. He locates one quickly and pushes it back in time to catch Johnny pulling the last suitcase off the belt.

They get into their Uber soon after, with Johnny and the driver chatting about the flight and plane food. The ride is unfamiliar and slow, their trip started out right at peak rush hour. It took about forty minutes to get to their hotel.

Taeyong unloads the luggages off the car as Johnny waddles to the front desk with his arms full of boxed equipment. He pulls up their booking email on his phone, repeating confirmation numbers and identifications to the man at the front desk. Taeyong joins a moment later and watches.

Tall, slim build. Brown eyes, chestnut brown hair. Dark circles under eyes. Above average looks. Dressed impeccably in starchy hotel uniform. Young, likely younger than himself. The brightness in his eyes speak of hope. He's a kid.

“This is your room number. If you need to call front desk, dial the pound button. We also have a gym and a pool on the seventh floor, and a bar on the sixteenth floor” says the low, melodious voice. Taeyong meets his eyes and smiles politely. “Um- my name is Jae if you need any assistance.”

“Thank you.” Johnny beams, collecting the hotel cards on the desk. “‘Jae’ huh? Are you by any chance Korean?”

Jaehyun blinks, nodding slowly. “Yes sir, born in Seoul, moved to the States when I was young.”

Johnny snorts, waving a hand casually. “Drop the ‘sir’, it makes me feel old. You're probably around our age.”

Jaehyun chuckles lightly. “I have been told I had a baby face.”

Johnny snickers. “Get outta here, you don’t look a day over eighteen!”

“Twenty four, actually,” comes the reply, followed by a wry grin. “What brings you to the city?”

“Work, for me,” Johnny replies, then points a thumb at Taeyong. “He'll be teaching a dance class, and enjoy the sights of the Big Apple.”

“I see.” Brown eyes slide to the photography equipment in Johnny's arms, then hazards a quick glance at Taeyong's direction, not quite meeting his eyes. “Do you need recommendations for sights, restaurants, a map to the metro?”

Taeyong blinks. “I've been here a few times, I think I'll find my way okay,” he says in accented English.

“Alright, sounds good.”

There was a pause, where the conversation lingers in the air between them. Then Johnny steps in, pressing a gentle but guiding hand on the small of Taeyong's back and ushers him along. “Thanks for everything Jae! I might take you up on the bar.” He calls over his shoulder, throwing in a wink.

Jaehyun snaps out of it with a surprised look, but he keeps his tone pleasant and professional. “My pleasure. Have a great evening, sirs.”

Johnny laughs, loud and hearty. “We're only two years older!”

They disappear into the elevators, bringing them up to the 3rd floor.

A quick tap of the key card opens them up to a modest room with a king sized bed, a small vanity table and hanging mirror, a flat screen television secured to the wall, and a bathroom that looks like it's seen the rise of New York. But it's clean and there's hot water (Taeyong checked), so it's already much better than a previous one they stayed at.

Taeyong stretches himself out on the bed, groaning when his joints pop in quick succession and loving it.

“When do you have to go?”

Johnny settles behind him, pulling his curled body closer. “After lunch. I'll be busy for the next five days-”

Taeyong covers Johnny's hand with his, bringing it up to press a kiss across the knuckles. “I know, I'll figure something out. I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can.” Johnny's hand reaches for his chin, gently urging him to turn to press a kiss on the pink, pliant lips. “Just wished we could've spent more time exploring this city, you know?” He says against the lips, half-lidded eyes searching for Taeyong's.

Taeyong meets his gaze squarely, nodding. “There'll be another chance. You get a lot of jobs here.”

The smile pulling at the corner of his lips doesn't quite reach his eyes, but Johnny doesn't comment. It's not the first time Taeyong has sulked because of the constant flying around. But it’s always a balance of give and take, between staying at one place for a longer time to see if any jobs come by, to fly out when there is a big enough job out there, for the both of them.

Most creatives hustle hard to make a decent living wage.

“I’ll do my best,” Johnny promises.

Taeyong smiles softly, like he knows he’s being a brat and he’s sorry, and presses a quick on Johnny’s cheek.

Johnny smiles, pulling Taeyong closer and snuggles into the crook of his neck. “Love you.”

Taeyong’s heart skips a beat, but not in that way. “Love you too,” he says in exhale, soft and tired.

“Let’s take a walk and go out for an lunch?”

Taeyong whines, pulling his arms above his eyes. “Five minutes? It’s cold out.”

Johnny chuckles, stretching out on the bed as well. “Five minutes.”

 

They wash up and get dressed, Johnny in black loose slacks, white buttoned down shirt, burgundy knitted sweater, a black lightweight trench coat and his trusty Doc. Mart’s. Taeyong opts for something more casual- black Nike Air Max 270’s, black jeans, black t-shirt, black sweater, and a black bomber jacket. He checks his wallet for enough currency to last the day, and they’re off.

The day starts off surprisingly warm, and soon Johnny sheds his trench, and Taeyong his jacket. They make their way through the narrow but beautiful Riverside Park. Johnny instinctively lingers a few steps back, taking photos of the flowers, trees, sky, and of Taeyong. It was a bit weird, especially when they started dating, but Johnny justified that he was very beautiful, and it was nice to document these moments. So he’s used to it now, taking walks on his own while his boyfriend stays a few paces off and snapping away.

Eventually they end up somewhere south and east, where Johnny locates a well-known ramen spot, and they have an early lunch.

“This broth is very good,” Taeyong comments conversationally.

“Yeah, the nasu salad was also amazing,” Johnny adds with a wide smile.

Their fingers link together as they leave the restaurant. Taeyong hums an indiscernible tune with a bounce to his steps, and Johnny chuckles to himself.

“You gotta head back now, right?” Taeyong asks.

Johnny nods. “I’ll have to get my equipment and meet the producer at the hotel lobby. Want to come with? Or do you want to stay out and explore some more?”

“I’ll come, the three hour difference is making me nappy,” Taeyong says, yawning with a sleepy smile.

“Lies, you’re always nappy after food,” Johnny teases.

“Only the good food,” Taeyong replies dreamily, and Johnny chuckles again and draws him into a hug and presses a kiss on his forehead.

Taeyong squirms away from the touch, a light blush spreading across his cheeks. He’s not very big on PDA, Johnny's just teasing him. “Let’s go.”

Johnny hums, and they make their way up Broadway, strolling lazily at first, and hurrying later when Johnny realizes he’s got ten minutes left. So they half-jog, half-run the rest of the way, giving Johnny just enough time to dart up to their room, get his equipment, then come back downstairs to meet the producer and the rest of the team.

12:32 PM  
**Johnny**  
Don’t wait up tonight

Taeyong reads the words three times over, drops his phone on the bed beside his face and sighs quietly.

Not for the first time, he wonders if this is truly working out, or if he’s just delaying the inevitable.

Twisting to lay on his back, he stares at the ceiling for a moment longer, then sits up. He’s restless. The food put him in good spirits, and he wants to make use of this energy. After a moment of rolling some ideas in his head, he changes into his gym clothes, and pulls on his running shoes. Scrolling through a jogging app that plots a one hour jog, he memorizes the route, leaves his room and heads for the elevators.

The elevator doors open to a side view of the front desk, where he sees Jaehyun and another woman managing the front desk. The former meets his gaze with a look of surprise.

“Hello,” Jaehyun greets with a polite smile.

“Hey,” Taeyong falters, switching quickly from Korean to English.

A flash of something crosses Jaehyun’s eyes, but Taeyong can’t tell what it was. “Out for a jog?”

“Yes,” Taeyong replies with a nod.

Jaehyun grin, half-lidded eyes with dimples. “Have a nice day.”

Taeyong flashes a quick grin and hurries out of the hotel.

It’s not that he’s not used to speaking English, but apart from conversational English and teaching his international classes, he doesn’t really have a chance to speak the language, and feels a little self-conscious when he does.

He should practice some English words before his class that’s two days from now, he thinks absentmindedly. A few other ideas come and go, but once he gets into the pacing of his jog, the flow of thoughts quiet, and he’s on his own again.

An hour later he re-enters the hotel, sweaty and feeling much better, and checks his pocket for the hotel room key- only to realize he’s forgotten. Ah shit…

He doubles back to the front desk and hopes to see the familiar face of the Korean man earlier. Lucky for him, the man is still on his shift. Jaehyun looks up as he approaches, eyes widening in recognition.

“Excuse me, I forgot the room key. Please help me?” Taeyong says with hesitation, wondering if the words he’s using made sense.

Jaehyun pauses for a moment and Taeyong freezes. Did he say something wrong?

Then Jaehyun clears his throat uncomfortably and tries for an easy-going smile. “Sure, not a problem. I’ll come with you and open the door.”

Taeyong nods, ignoring how his t-shirt is sticking to his back and looking worse for wear. “Thank you,” he says with a grateful smile.

Jaehyun calls for another receptionist to take over while he’s gone, and a smaller man with grey thinning hair emerges from the back doors. “I’ll be back soon, cover for me.” He says, sifting through some key cards. When he locates the master key, he looks up to meet Taeyong’s eyes and nods. “One sec.”

The other front desk receptionist, an older woman, smiles kindly at Taeyong. “Don’t worry, this happens a lot.”

Taeyong manages a crooked smile. “Ah, okay.”

Jaehyun rounds the back and comes out from a set of doors labelled “Employees Only”, and gestures for Taeyong to follow him to the elevator.

“How was your jog?” He asks in Korean.

Taeyong blinks. “Um. It was good, it was really windy though,” he replies, taken back. “You know how to speak Korean?”

A feeling of warmth blooms from his chest. Maybe he misses home a bit more than he expected. He can’t help but beam widely when his eyes meet Jaehyun’s.

Jaehyun nods, grinning back. “A little. I learned from my parents and grandparents mostly.”

Taeyong quirks an eyebrow. “‘Mostly’?”

The elevator pings its arrival, and they step inside. Jaehyun swiftly presses the “3” button, and the doors close behind them.

“Learned to swear from my friends,” he admits with a playful look in his eyes. “My parents thought they could bring me up all proper, little did they know.”

“My, aren’t you a delinquent.” Taeyong smirks teasingly.

“No criminal record as far as I’m concerned,” Jaehyun chuckles.

The elevator stops with a short halt and a wobble, then the doors pull up with a soft screech.

“This hotel seems very old,” he comments.

“One of the oldest in the city.” Jaehyun nods, leading them down the hallway to Taeyong’s room. “That’s why it’s not very busy here. Not everyone would willingly book a room at one of the most haunted hotels in New York.”

Taeyong freezes, eyes as wide as dinner plates. “What?!”

Jaehyun laughs. “I’m joking, a lot more hotels have us beat, especially the ones closer to graveyards.”

When Taeyong doesn’t immediately follow him, he looks back and quirks an eyebrow. “What?”

“I don’t know if you're being serious or not,” Taeyong remarks, like he’s afraid of the answer either way.

Jaehyun hums, making a show of tapping his lip thoughtfully. “How restful do you want your sleep for the next few days?”

“Dude.”

“It’s Jaehyun.”

“Jaehyun,” Taeyong repeats, incredulous. “Are you like this to every hotel patron? Spook them out of visiting your hotel ever again?”

“It’s not mine,” Jaehyun laughs, low and throaty. It’s not reassuring and doesn’t settle Taeyong’s nerves at all. “I’m kidding about the paranormal stuff. You’ll be okay.”

Taeyong narrows his eyes. “If anything happens to me I’m gonna find you and make you regret your words.”

They reach Taeyong’s room, and Jaehyun turns to face Taeyong with a teasing smirk.

“How will you do that?”

Taeyong scowls. “I’ll figure out a way, don’t worry.”

Jaehyun laughs, tapping his key card on the lock and it clicks open. He opens it and gestures for Taeyong to go in, who does so while narrowing his eyes at Jaehyun, like wondering if this guy’s for real.

Jaehyun’s smirk widens. “Don’t forget your key card again.”

Taeyong rolls his eyes and growls, “I won’t.”

And the door closes between them.

 

Knowing that he'll be spending the evening by himself, Taeyong messages a few dance friends who are in Manhattan that evening, gets a few drinks with them and dances too much for his knees to bear, before returning to the hotel exhausted and feeling his age. The front desk woman from before greets him politely as he wobbles to the elevator. He smiles and waves back before stepping in. Once he gets into his room, he downs a bottle of water, loosens his belt, and falls face-first into the mattress.

If there’s a small feeling of disappointment that Jaehyun wasn’t at the front desk, well, he’s not giving it too much thought.


	2. 02

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to [wendy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImJaebabie) and [chibi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/taemochi/pseuds/taemochi) for beta-ing this chapter, they're wonderful people and accomplished authors, and I'm humbled to have them beta this. Read their stuff if you aren't familiar, they're amazing!

Some time in the middle of the night, Taeyong wakes up to use the bathroom. He notes, with a tinge of curiosity and worry, that Johnny still hasn’t come back. He stares at the phone on the side table for a long minute before turning away.

He refuses to dwell on it, lest he be the boyfriend who gets too overbearing. Johnny is an adult; level-headed and mild-tempered, and he trusts him not to get into trouble.

•••

When Taeyong wakes up again, he’s enveloped in Johnny’s arms with his warm breath fanning across his nape. Taeyong carefully wiggles out of the embrace, not wanting to wake the other. Johnny wakes up anyway.

“Hey babe,” he greets softly, pressing a kiss on Johnny’s forehead.

Johnny lets out a low whine and drapes an arm over his eyes, shielding them from the early morning rays. “Morning,” he mutters, voice rough like sandpaper. Taeyong chuckles lowly.

“Coffee?”

“I love you forever and ever.”

“You better,” Taeyong says wryly, pressing another kiss on one well pronounced cheekbone. He makes a cup of coffee from the room’s free amenities and leaves it on the bedside table. It doesn’t smell very good.

It’s early. In fact, it’s just a little past 7 am, but Taeyong can’t go back asleep. After some deliberation, he decides to go for a short jog (maybe come across a cafe for something sweet, and some real coffee for Johnny).

He quickly changes into yesterday’s gym clothes and laments the fact that they’ll be stinky before this trip is over. He’ll have to find a coin laundry to avoid that.

Sighing, he slips on his runners and sets the same path as yesterday's -- one that crosses Central Park and goes to the north end before double-backing -- and sets off. He makes sure to have the hotel key tucked inside his running belt.

Downstairs, Jaehyun is standing by the front desk, helping a newcomer check into the hotel. Their eyes meet briefly, and he nods at Jaehyun, who smiles back.

For some reason, it feels like it'll be a good day.

•••

It was definitely a good day. On his way back from his jog, he took a different route and happened upon a cafe that smelled deliciously of baked goods and freshly brewed coffee. He quickly jumped in line and got a croissant and drip coffee for Johnny, and a strawberry strudel and flat white for himself.

Excited about the food, he enters the hotel with a bounce in his step and sees Jaehyun again.

The same dimpled smile greets him.

“How was your jog?” Jaehyun asks in Korean.

“It was great. The weather is perfect,” Taeyong replies, pausing mid-step to smile at the other.

“Glad to hear,” Jaehyun beams. “Have a nice day.”

Taeyong nods and enters the elevator.

He settles the coffee and breakfast on the bed side table. The lump on the bed has not moved an inch since he left. With a wry grin, Taeyong proceeds to strip and take a nice long shower, scrubbing the grime off his skin with relish.

When he comes out, Johnny is sipping the coffee with a soft, tired but grateful expression. The white bag previously holding the croissant is all that remains.

Taeyong chuckles.

“How's the coffee?”

“The hotel's was shitty. The one you bought? I need a bag of those beans.”

Taeyong presses a kiss on Johnny's shoulder. “I'll pick it up on tomorrow's jog if they have any.”

Johnny puts down his coffee and pulls Taeyong into his lap, peppering kisses on his shoulder and neck. “You're so good.”

Taeyong chuckles, carding fingers through Johnny's hair. “I'm always good.”

Johnny smirks into the skin. “You really are.”

Taeyong feels Johnny shift under him and tenses a little.

“What's your schedule for the day? It's almost 9 am.”

Johnny groans, burying his face between Taeyong's shoulders and squeezing him tighter. “I should get ready, it'll be another long day.”

Taeyong hums, settling on Johnny's lap. “Try to come back earlier. We can go shopping, or take a late stroll or something.”

“That late? That’s probably not a good idea.”

“This is New York, not Seoul. We’re just two gay men hanging out in the dark. What could possibly go wrong?”

Johnny slaps Taeyong’s thigh lightly for the joke. “Let’s not try to find out. I’ll see what I can do about the last day in New York. I’m hoping to wrap up early so I can spend some time with you.”

Taeyong shoots at dark look at Johnny for the love tap and shuffles off his lap. “See if I ever get you breakfast again.”

Johnny smirks, cupping his coffee again. “But you love me.”

“Uh huh.”

Within minutes, Johnny is in and out the shower and pulling all layers of clothes on, pressing a doting kiss on Taeyong’s forehead, and darting out of the door with one hand holding his camera, the other curling into his jacket. “See ya!”

Taeyong smiles crookedly, looking at the door long after it’s closed.

A breath.

He collapses on the bed, rolling onto his front to use his phone. He studies the map for a good five seconds before giving up. Maybe he’ll start somewhere close. Central Park is right there. Maybe he’ll just walk until he gets tired, then head back. Maybe he shouldn’t even leave the hotel…

Okay, the last one is silly. But tempting.

With a heave, he sits up and finishes the last bit of his coffee and strudel. A thin sliver of sun escapes from the curtains, piercing into his eyes, and he flinches.

 

There are a lot of blue jays in Central Park, he finds.

At first he doesn't know what he’s hearing -- the cries sound more like a pitched screeching than a bird’s chirp. But then he notices the streaks of blue whizzing above his head, disappearing into dense trees, and makes the connection. Finally, one lands close enough for him to recognize the crown and blue markings, and with the help of Google, finds that it’s called blue jay.

He learns a few more birds’ names in English as he walks through the park. The chickadee, the red-winged blackbird, the sparrow, the egret, and the territorial Canadian geese (one chased after him for walking too close; maybe it was guarding its babies, maybe it was batshit).

A strong gust of wind sweeps the leaves from brittle tree branches, a dance of red and orange and gold around him, and he lets out a deep sigh.

The path he takes inevitably leads south, then east, where he encounters a gigantic building. It's the Metropolitan Museum. He hesitates, wondering if it'll be a good idea to commit to something that normally takes days to get through.

After a pause, he turns towards it anyway.

 

After one too many suits of armour, white people paintings and armless sculptures, Taeyong zips through the 3rd floor for the “Asian Art” (which were beautiful but limited) and decides to leave. It’s not that he can’t appreciate art and culture, but there’s something about looking at the grandeur and excess that makes him feel suffocated. He’s also pretending to not notice the hushed buzzing when he enters the room…

As he heads out, he feels a tap on his shoulder and turns around.

A young woman who looks to be in her late teens (maybe early twenties?) looks at him with wide eyes and a light blush across her pale cheeks.

“A-are you a kpop star?”

Taeyong blinks. “No…” he says as his brain processes the question.

The woman looks even more embarrassed, face turning completely red as she laughs it off, apologizing in a flurry of words and disappearing in the crowd again.

... O-kay.

He walks around the edge of the huge body of water in the park (which he later found was called the Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis Reservoir), and that’s when he notices the shadow lingering a few paces behind him. He frowns and slows down. The man also slows down. He speeds to a fast-walk, and again, the man matches his pace.

From the corner of his eyes, the man looks to be a few inches taller and a bit thinner than him. Annoyed, he turns around to glare at the stranger, and the man quickly turns away. But then a strange light crosses his eyes as he takes purposeful strides towards Taeyong.

Taeyong frowns in apprehension. If this is going to be like the woman from the MET Museum…

“Hey honey, do you have a number?”

His insides freeze. The fuck.

He doesn’t respond, but he does quicken his footsteps. If this happened in Korea… If he could’ve just yelled in Korean and not negatively represent Koreans… A burning glare over his shoulder tells him that he’s alone again (thank fuck), but it’s made him less motivated to walk, much less explore the city.

With anger blazing in the pit of his stomach, he storms back to the hotel and heads straight for the gym. There better be a sand bag for him to crack open, being objectified is the _worst_ feeling ever.

 

(There were no sandbags. There was, however, a pool, so he dove in and swam laps until his lungs and muscles burned, and the anger doused out. He didn’t have swimming trunks so he wore his boxers. It was a good thing no one else came in.)

 

When he’s showered and properly dressed again, he heads downstairs to ask about food delivery options because he hasn’t had anything since breakfast and he’s _hungry._ It's one thing to be angry, but it's no way to fall asleep angry and hungry, and it's already 8:30.

Jaehyun is working again, and Taeyong doesn't ignore how he feels a smidge lighter after seeing the familiar face. He makes a beeline for the front desk just as the Jaehyun looks up from his bookkeeping. Jaehyun smiles politely and greets in Korean: “Hey.”

Taeyong nods back, flashing a quick, crooked smile. “Do you ever get time off?”

Jaehyun chuckles. “I have the next two days off, actually,” he says, an amused glint in his eyes. “What can I do for you?”

Taeyong shifts on his feet. “Food. The cheaper the better. Any recommendations?”

Jaehyun hums. “What do you like to eat?”

Taeyong shrugs. “Surprise me.”

Jaehyun quirks a brow. “Well, as a member of this hotel, I would recommend you to pay our restaurant a visit- it’s just located on the 3rd floor-”

Taeyong waves a hand to stop Jaehyun, whose teasing is only betrayed by the sparkle in his eyes. “Don’t give me that spiel, I don’t have the money to eat at the hotel. Something cheaper.”

Jaehyun shoots him a curious look. “Yet you're staying here.”

Taeyong shifts his eyes away. “My friend’s work hooked us up with this hotel.”

There was a slight pause in conversation, then: “You mean your boyfriend.”

Taeyong bites his lip, like he’s forgotten. And maybe he has. He’s never really introduced Johnny as his boyfriend in Korean before. “Ah, yes. It’s hard to change titles. Korea in general…”

Jaehyun’s eyes soften as he shakes his head. “It’s okay, I get it.”

Taeyong doesn’t respond. He doesn’t know what to say to that.

Jaehyun straightens, lips pulling into a crooked smile. “Come hang out with me at the bar.”

Taeyong makes a face, scrunching up his nose. “I’m not drinking on an empty stomach.”

“We have a kitchen too. It's actually quite affordable.”

Surprised, Taeyong glances at Jaehyun. “If I went with you, would I have to pay for it?”

Jaehyun lets out a bark of laughter. “Of course. You’re in America, there’s no such things as free meals.”

Taeyong harrumphs. “Stingy.”

Jaehyun's eyes crinkling into a smile again. “If I make it, it’ll be at employees price. It’s worth it, I promise.”

“Employees should get to eat for free.”

“Tell that to my boss.”

“I will. Is it the older woman who mans the front desk with you? She has a boss vibe.”

“Good guess, but no. You probably won’t get to see her, she usually comes in on Tuesdays, because that’s the steak frites special.”

“A boss with sound priorities, nice.”

“Isn’t it?”

For the first time that evening, Taeyong breaks into a genuine smile. “So when are you heading up?”

“In half an hour. I still have some paperwork to get through.”

“Ah, okay. I guess I’ll meet you upstairs then.”

This time, Jaehyun turns to Taeyong with a look of surprise. “Didn’t you say no drinking on an empty stomach?”

The corner of Taeyong's mouth quirks up as he says, “My room.”

“Ah,” Jaehyun blushes lightly. “Right. I’ll see you at the bar then.”

“Half an hour. See you.”

Taeyong flips through the menu from cover to cover, translating and deliberating every item like some kind of alien language. His eyes travel to Jaehyun, who is standing on the other side of the bar table, then lingers. Jaehyun has changed into a black shirt, and it shouldn't make him look different, but it does. It's not that he's attracted to Jaehyun, per se, but objectively speaking, Jaehyun is quite attractive. Even more so now that he's wearing black on black.

To be honest, Taeyong would’ve never expected to meet a fellow Korean in New York. The chances of eating painfully expensive food at a well-known hotel were slim to none. And yet, here he is, at this posh bar where his new friend offers to cook dinner, charging him at employee's price. Is there a catch?

Maybe Jaehyun is secretly a serial killer or something.

Ignorant to this train of thought, Jaehyun is speaking quietly to the bartender and they share a quiet chuckle. There are a few other patrons at the bar, old familiars, it seems. Then, as though he felt Taeyong’s gaze on him, Jaehyun turns to smile at Taeyong.

“Know what you want yet?” He calls over.

Taeyong shakes his head, suppressing the embarrassment for being caught staring so openly. “Any recommendations? And are you really cooking for me?”

“Of course, I'm a great cook.”

Taeyong levels Jaehyun with a dubious look that would make any liar flinch and admit the truth, but not Jaehyun.

He smirks. “Why, can’t trust this face?”

Taeyong blinks, wondering if this is a joke or not.

“Evidently. All I’ve seen you do is check people in and swipe people out.”

Jaehyun scoffs. “For that, I’ll burn whatever it is that you’re planning to order.”

Taeyong pulls a long face and pushes the menu away. “Decide for me. I don’t want to think.”

Rolling his eyes, Jaehyun approaches Taeyong and crosses his arms haughtily. “You’ve told me nothing about your preferences. Give me something to work with here.”

Just for his attitude, Taeyong doesn’t stop what comes out of his mouth next:

“Men, obviously. Tall, dark-haired, handsome. A penchant for arts. Bonus if he’s a romantic, but not necessary. A free spirit (though not too free, because I like to hold hands sometimes). Kind eyes, sweet smile, and a big dick.”

A long pause follows.

“I’m joking.”

“I wasn’t aware.”

“You should probably blink.”

Jaehyun blinks, and blinks. That’s all he does for about a minute.

Taeyong bites back a laugh. “Less sarcasm? I thought that was the thing on the East coast.”

Jaehyun, having finally come to, “Were the nuances that easy to pick up?”

Taeyong nods. “Sort of. People on the west coast smile a lot more.”

Jaehyun bristles. “That’s because you’re visiting in the fall, when the leaves turn brown, the weather gets cold, and everyone becomes miserable.”

Taeyong sneers at the dramatics. “Wow, it’s not like I’m from a country where it doesn’t snow in winter. People don’t suddenly forget to smile.”

“Pft, Korea’s different. You still get the sun even when it’s balls-freezing.”

Taeyong frowns. “I’m not sure if that’s taking a stab at my sexuality. Blue balls, really?”

“Then I would be taking a stab at my own as well, er, somewhat.”

“Oh.”

“I bat for both teams.”

“Oh, I… see.”

“Anyway.”

“Right, anyway. I was actually joking,” Taeyong starts.

Jaehyun looks up in alarm. “You’re not actually gay?” He exclaims, leaning across the bar.

Taeyong snorts and nudges Jaehyun’s arm. “No, I am. I meant the smiles. My dance buddies from L.A. are just as smiley as my friends here. They just like to poke fun at each other for being on different coasts. This humour escapes me.”

Relieved, Jaehyun slumps back with a sigh. “You almost had me. But yeah, when you grow up in this country, it becomes a thing. It’s like how, uh, when you meet a person who is not from Seoul, you immediately think they’re a country bumpkin or something.”

“...a country bumpkin.”

Jaehyun rolls his eyes. “Or something, yes. Are you sure you want me to decide?”

“I don't see why not. I have no dietary restrictions.”

“Alright. Give me a few minutes.”

Jaehyun turns to the bartender and mutters something. The bartender grumbles something back and shoots Taeyong a look, before waving Jaehyun off. It doesn't sound like English.

“Gotta say, I haven't made this in a while so I hope it turns out okay,” Jaehyun says, throwing one last wink over his shoulder and striding to the kitchen.

“Oi…” Taeyong protests, the words dying in his throat as the kitchen doors close.

A lonely kind of silence envelopes Taeyong briefly, then he shakes it off. He pushes the menu away and looks around. The bar is minimally lit with warm yellow, and the curtains have drawn open to reveal the glittering city behind, like revealing a momentous painting. Taeyong rests his chin on his arm and sighs.

It would be nice to eat with Johnny.

It's too bad that he's working.

Taeyong sniffs, twirling the slice of lemon in the iced water. Working, being productive, doing things that feed his creative soul. Taeyong had always known, before the awards even validated the work, that Johnny had an eye for capturing beauty. Besides the technicalities, he knew where to look and when to push the shutter button. Watching him work was an artful expression on its own. His photographs spoke for themselves. Except...

He should be doing that too.

A low feeling of indignant, ugly jealousy rears up. He knows it's wrong, but he can't help it. He wants Johnny's success. He wants that recognition, but for his dancing. He wants to settle somewhere and build his brand and teach, but properly, empower the people, spread the joy of dance-

He wants it so damn bad. But he doesn't have it because he's in a relationship; one that entails a lot of travelling, a lot of socializing with the wrong people, and a lot of insecurities.

He's wasting his time away.

But the alternative is to break up, isn't it? He's surviving on so little already, long distance would break what's left of this, of them. And the idea that there will be no touches, no kind eyes, no understanding smile, no warmth... nothing. It scares him.

What will be left of Taeyong?

He has no one to fall back on.

And maybe he's known this for a while; that's why he hasn't done anything.The feeling of being left alone again is something he doesn't want to bear. It's not healthy, he knows. His self-worth shouldn’t depend so heavily on his social connections, but being convinced of this is easier said than done.

At the end of the day, he just wants to matter.

“What's got you frowning so hard? Your eyebrows almost touched.”

Taeyong squeezes his eyes tight for a split second, then turns to smile at a concerned-looking Jaehyun. “Just thinking.”

Jaehyun looks far from convinced, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he settles a warm bowl of french onion soup in front of Taeyong. “Have something to eat before you keep going. It’s onions in beef broth with bread and cheese on top.”

“...Western people eat weird food.”

“So do Koreans. Don’t knock it till you try it. It’s good.”

“Did you make this?”

“This? Nah, this takes hours. There was some left so I got it for you,” He smiles softly. “Eat up, there’s more coming.”

Taeyong looks at Jaehyun in surprise. “More?”

Jaehyun nods. “Yep. I’ll be back!”

Taeyong takes a spoon and gingerly pokes at the floating piece of cheese on bread. It wobbles a bit, and some steam escapes. He digs the spoon through and blows at the hot soup before trying a sip (with some onions). Delicious. It’s not too salty, with a strong sweet taste of the onions balanced by the saltier broth. The bread soaks the flavours and the cheese adds to the textures he’s experiencing in his mouth.

Mildly blown away, he turns back to the kitchen doors, where Jaehyun has disappeared, and wonders what will come next.

Following the soup is a sampling plate of mushrooms sautéed in garlic butter and some bread. Then comes the delicately plated braised pork shoulder on a bed of scalloped potatoes. Finally, the night ends with a medallion of fluffy tiramisu pancake, a combination that is currently blowing Taeyong's mind to smithereens.

When Jaehyun settles the pancake in front of Taeyong, he catches the bewildered dinner plate eyes and laughs.

“How was the main?”

“Did you just go to the back and ask the chef to make all this?”

“Chef? I’ll take that compliment.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I would never.”

Taeyong narrows his eyes. “The ghosts?”

“Well, same question. How soundly do you want to sleep tonight?”

“Jaehyun.” Taeyong says, shooting a warning glare.

“Hm, I never got your name.”

“It’s Taeyong.”

“I wasn’t lying about paranormal activity, Taeyong. That’s basically a given when you’re at an old hotel in Manhattan. But that’s all I’ll say.”

Taeyong sucks in a breath, eyes unconsciously darting to the darker corners of the room. Jaehyun watches with an amused expression, but he doesn’t retract his statement. So, he's not lying then. Taeyong decides this is enough spooky talk and changes topics.

“The main was really good. Actually, _everything_ was really good.” Taeyong blinks. “How did you get so good at cooking?”

Jaehyun shrugs, pushing the pancake to the middle of the table. “Have some before it gets cold,” he orders. While Taeyong eats a perfectly bite-sized triangle of pancake and makes an encouraging sound of satisfaction, Jaehyun continues: “I’ve always had an interest in cooking, even though I majored in Hotel Management.”

“That’s… not surprising,” Taeyong surmises, copying Jaehyun’s well-practiced motion of swiping keycard doors.

Jaehyun chuckles. “Isn’t it? Anyway, what about you? Your partner said that you had a dance class… tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow, yeah. I’ve danced since I was fifteen, started being an instructor about a year ago, but…” Taeyong measures the next words before shaking his head. “So I’m a freelance instructor now.”

“That sounds amazing, full of adventures. Do you travel for work often?”

“Not really. All this travelling business is kinda new to me.”

“Really? Yet you’ve gone to New York and L.A. several times, and made friends here and there.”

“Ah, some of those are from the classes I take. I’m not the best in the industry, there’s always more to learn. And the others,” Taeyong shrugs nonchalantly. “They’re dance acquaintances. All friendly and inspirational people, but the language barrier is hard to overcome.”

“My mother said the same when we first moved to America.”

“When did you move?”

“When I was seven, so… seventeen years ago.”

“Have you gone back since?”

“Of course. My grandmother stayed in Korea for a few years before buckling and moving to the States with us. The visits became less frequent once she moved.”

“Makes sense, the direct flights were what- fourteen? fifteen hours long.”

“Long enough to make my joints ache from hearing the numbers alone,” Jaehyun smiles wryly. “Are your friends working now? What about your partner?”

“Working.” Taeyong shrugs uncomfortably, shifting his weight in his seat. “Evenings are a busy time for dance instructors. They’re probably teaching at two or three sessions tonight.”

“I see.” Jaehyun nods slowly.

“And my partner- Johnny, he’s working as well.”

Jaehyun blinks in surprise. “This late?”

Taeyong hums, poking at a piece of the pancake with his fork. “I'm not sure about the details of the contract, but it's apparently common for photographers like him to be doing this.”

Jaehyun raises an eyebrow but doesn’t comment otherwise. Taeyong shifts his attention back on the pancake. It’s still sweet and fluffy, but he’s losing appetite. Maybe he ate too quickly.

“Too sweet?” Jaehyun asks.

Taeyong shakes his head, surprised that Jaehyun picked up on it. “I think I had too much food, it's sitting weird.”

Jaehyun nods, casually producing a fork from the other side of the bar and cuts into the pancake. “So what are your plans for the rest of this trip?”

Taeyong blinks, pulling the plate towards him. “I wasn’t planning to share this.”

Jaehyun snorts, pulling the plate back. “You’ve been dragging the pancake through syrup for the past five minutes,” he argues, and before Taeyong tugs the plate again, shoves a big piece in his mouth.

“Hey!” Taeyong protests, but Jaehyun ignores him and makes loud happy noises from the food.

“Man, didn’t lose my touch at all,” he compliments himself, licking the fork clean.

Taeyong rolls his eyes. “I see how it is, you make me come here and cook for me just so you can steal the food,” he complains with no heat.

The corners of Jaehyun’s eyes crinkle as he cuts out another bite of pancake. “I’ve been found.”

Just then, the bartender calls Jaehyun over and whispers something to him. He laughs and pats the man on the shoulder before striding back to Taeyong. “He wants some too,” he explains easily. “I’ll be right back.”

In another ten minutes, two pancakes topped with powdered sugar and light syrup are carried out by Jaehyun’s mockingly straight-edged body, delivered straight to the bartender. The bartender makes a show of gratitude, and the two nod and bow at each other maybe ten times before Jaehyun calls out a final, “Enjoy your meal!” and comes back to Taeyong.

Taeyong hides a grin behind his hand. “You seem like good friends.” Amusement sparkles in his eyes.

Jaehyun makes a sound of agreement. “What can I say, you become close to those you work with.”

Taeyong smiles, propping his cheek on his palm. “It’s fun here, it’s like there are less rules.”

Then Jaehyun understands. “I won’t lie, it’s much easier to speak in English because you don’t need to worry about age and showing respect.” He shrugs, smiling crookedly. “It’s not like what it would be in Korea.”

Taeyong hums, contemplative. “That’s one way to put it.”

Jaehyun regards Taeyong for a moment. Then: “Mind if I asked a question?”

“Go ahead.”

“Why are you freelancing? Are there more opportunities as a freelance dance instructor? Is it the travelling?”

“That’s a lot of questions,” Taeyong notes with a tease to his tone. He takes a breath and continues, “There doesn’t have to be a lot of travelling, but it does help to broaden your perspective, expand your repertoire, learn how different people learn when you travel. Also, it helps you become a better teacher.”

Jaehyun grins at something he sees in Taeyong’s eyes. “Does it help with dance?”

Taeyong nods, smiling brightly. “Of course, you get to meet other dancers, learn from them, learn their cultures. They’re things a place and their people teach you, nothing quite like it.”

The plate between them is now empty.

“To answer your other questions, I don’t think there are more opportunities as a freelancer. And… I’ve never really thought to be a full time dancer until it was time for me to choose between what I studied in university and what my passion was.” Taeyong smiles wryly. “Might've sent my parents to the grave early when I told them I didn’t want to work as an analyst anymore.”

Taeyong chuckles and Jaehyun joins him a beat later.

“Can’t imagine that going down well, especially if they have that traditional mindset.”

Taeyong shakes his head, wiping a tear from the corner of his eyes. “It’s a good thing my sister has already fulfilled all of their expectations. I eventually left the nest.”

Jaehyun hums, a hesitant look in his eyes. “Do they know...?”

Taeyong nods. “That definitely almost sent them to the grave early.” He smiles tersely. “But by then I had already moved out, minimizing the times we had to see each other.”

Jaehyun rubs the back of his neck. “Jeez, that's tough.”

“It’s what it is.” Taeyong shrugs. “What about you? Tell me more about yourself.”

Jaehyun blinks. “Like what?”

“Hotel management? Was that something you've always wanted to do?”

Jaehyun hums ambiguously. “Not really. I studied a year in general science before switching to hotel management. Some of my credits carried through, some didn't. But my parents were supportive of it, told me it's okay to give it a go if that's what I wanted. I'm still paying back them back for funding my education, but at least they don't charge for interest.”

Jaehyun smiles fondly. “I've been working since I graduated, my first non-part-time job was here.”

Taeyong smiles too. “Do you like it here?”

“There are good and bad days. I think I've gotten better at dealing with people and handling unexpected things, er, situations.”

“You seem like the type to think quick on your feet.” Taeyong comments. Jaehyun blinks at this observation, then he shrugs.

“Comes with practice. I wasn't like this a year ago; my manager said I caught on quickly.”

“The hard work shows,” Taeyong comments, chuckling softly. “What’s that English saying, ‘You were born swimming’?”

Jaehyun nods. “That's the one.”

“Think you'll stay here for the next little while? How often do people switch jobs here?”

“Depends. I think job turnover rates are faster than what it would be in Korea, because we value individual experiences over group morale.”

Taeyong hums in agreement, and Jaehyun continues, “But I do eventually want to move up the ladder or become head manager so I'm not stuck doing the grunt work.”

“Not going to be a chef?”

“That's a lot more schooling and money. I mean, I took a class in cooking during my undergrad and it was cool. But this,” he gestures to the empty plate, “learned this from the chefs here, and it’s free. It's a side hobby.”

Taeyong shakes his head with a smile. “Just saying, you have potential.”

Jaehyun grins, an understanding twinkle to his eyes. “Thanks. I'll think about it when I'm older and want to start my own business. Coffee?”

Taeyong blinks in surprise at the random question. “Tomorrow?”

Jaehyun shakes his head. “I meant tonight. Plus, don’t you have places to be and people to teach tomorrow?”

Taeyong clears his throat, suppressing the blush threatening to bloom across his face. Why did he immediately think that Jaehyun was asking him out? “It’s hard to catch onto your wavelength,” he mutters. “Yeah, I have a class tomorrow afternoon. It’s going to be a big class. Do people drink coffee this late in the evening?”

Jaehyun laughs at the incredulous tone in his voice. “Yeah, I mean, it’s a thing that people do. Not sure why. Just thought I’d offer.”

“Huh, that’s really weird.”

They lapse into a pause. Then Taeyong realizes he’s staring at Jaehyun too intently, they’re leaning a bit too close, and conversation is flowing too easily. It’s like they’ve known each other for a very long time, somehow. And it’s as comforting as it is surprising.

Jaehyun notices too. He pulls back first, clearing his throat awkwardly. “It’s getting late.”

Taeyong blinks, as if broken out of a spell. “Um, yeah.”

“I’ll… I’ll get your bill ready.”

Jaehyun turns away before Taeyong asks, but what was he going to ask?

He steadies his breathing. He’s not ignorant. It shouldn’t be, and it isn’t.

Jaehyun comes back with light pink dusting his cheeks, placing the little receipt holder in front of Taeyong. The bartender calls out something and Jaehyun blushes even harder.

“What did he say?” Taeyong asks.

“Ignore him,” mutters Jaehyun. He sniffs, straightening “Card?”

“Yeah, I-” Taeyong takes a look at the bill, then back at Jaehyun. “Dude, what?”

“Just leave a good tip.”

“But I don’t even know the cost of this!”

“It’s fine, I dragged you here in the first place. Don’t worry about it.”

“But this isn’t right, you’re basically asking for-”

Jaehyun shoots Taeyong a look, and Taeyong huffs, handing over his card.

“What are you doing tomorrow?”

Jaehyun hums, avoiding Taeyong's gaze. “Nothing much, I'll probably take it easy.”

“Coffee?”

Jaehyun blinks. “You mean tomorrow?”

“Of course. And the day after. Tonight's dinner easily runs me over $100,” Taeyong says, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth. “This isn't okay, you’re going to get in trouble.”

Jaehyun shrugs casually, punching some numbers into the machine and it spits some papers out. “I won’t, it’s fine.”

Taeyong looks at the receipt, signs his name on the dotted line, and stares at Jaehyun.

“The night ended much better than I expected and I have you to thank. Have coffee with me at least. Please?”

And it’s a dirty trick that he learned a while ago, rolling his eyes a little bigger, drawing his brows down _just_ a bit. Johnny commented before that it’s unfair that he can make exceptionally moving puppy eyes. Taeyong snickers and shoots back that if Johnny did as asked, he wouldn’t resort to such cheap, obvious manipulations. Plus, he’s an accomplished dancer. This amount of facial muscle contortion is mere child’s play.

It works.

Taeyong watches the resolve crumble in Jaehyun’s eyes and his lips slowly pull into a smirk.

Jaehyun sees the smirk and grumbles lowly. “Leave me a big tip anyway, since you’re feeling so charitable.”

Taeyong laughs, genuinely and heartily. “Will do, Jae.”

For a beat, Jaehyun doesn’t react, but he looks like he’s about to faint. Taeyong shoots him a curious-borderline-concerned look. “You okay there?”

“Yes. Um.” Jaehyun quickly puts the card machine down and takes the plate away. “I’ll be cleaning up now-”

“Wait, here. The receipt. I should probably get out of your hair anyway.”

“Oh,” Jaehyun replies, dazed. “Okay.”

They stare at each other for a beat longer.

He must be overworked, Taeyong decides. Shaking his head, he flashes a small, kind smile and asks, “What’s your number? I can give you a call in the afternoon, and you can show me your favourite cafe the city or something.”

Jaehyun nods, mumbling his number off and Taeyong dutifully clicks it into his phone, hits save, and flashes Jaehyun another smile.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, ‘kay?”

Jaehyun manages a crooked smile and a nod, and Taeyong slides off the stool and exits the bar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all those who have commented, subscribed, kudos'd, bookmarked, read and enjoyed the first chapter. I don't mince words here: it meant a lot to me and kept me going. The last few months have been rough, especially from a creative standpoint (both my full time and part time jobs are design-oriented, and I also write). Your words helped heal, so thank you. I hope this brightened your day as well<3
> 
> Take care, and tread softly.


	3. 03

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday Jel <3

Taeyong feels the mattress dip when Johnny climbs into bed that evening… morning. He twists to his side facing Johnny, pulls the covers above the both and falls asleep in Johnny’s arms.

•••

As Taeyong plots his jogging route the next morning, he makes sure to pass by the café from yesterday to pick up a bag of coffee beans for Johnny. With the map set, he pulls on his sneakers, presses a quick peck on Johnny’s forehead, and goes down the elevator.

Jaehyun’s not there when the doors open, and Taeyong feels a small burst of excitement. Jaehyun isn’t at work, he’s taking his day off. They’re getting coffee together. He will have someone who speaks Korean to talk to, someone to hang out with.

With a bounce to his steps and a small smile tugging at his lips, Taeyong goes off on his jog.

•••

Johnny wakes up to the smell of coffee and baked goods, and rolls on his stomach with a mighty flop. He groans, sitting up and eyes peeling open with effort as he locates the cup of life source so he can burn his tongue on it.

_Mm..._

The showering sounds turn off a moment later, and Taeyong steps out looking every bit rosy-cheeked, warm and delectable. Johnny grins and makes grabby hands at him. Taeyong obediently strides over, pressing a chaste kiss on Johnny's full lips. Johnny snakes his arms around Taeyong in a flash and tugs him in.

“Morning babe.” He nuzzles into the warm skin of Taeyong's stomach.

Taeyong tries to wiggle out of his grasp but Johnny's not having it, pulling the slighter man closer.

“Stubbles,” complains Taeyong.

Johnny whines. “But you're warm.”

A moment later, he feels Taeyong run fingers through his hair and preens from the contact. “You big baby.”

Sated, he lets Taeyong go. “Uh huh, and this big baby needs a lot of snuggles and affection right now.”

He hears Taeyong chuckle somewhere behind him, then a warm line of skin presses against his back. He pulls Taeyong's arms across his chest and leans as Taeyong twirls and tussles the locks of hair.

“How late did you stay last night?”

“Twelve? One? The work needs a lot of clearances before pushing for final print. I'm not even working half the time, but I still need to be there.”

Taeyong hums softly. “Sounds like a lot of time wasted.”

“At least I'm compensated.”

Taeyong smiles wryly. “There's that.”

“What's the plan for today?”

“I gotta head out soon, it’s another full day.”

Taeyong stills for a fraction of a second before continuing to brush Johnny's hair, and something twists in Johnny's stomach. He ignores it.

“I'm gonna go shower.”

Johnny kisses Taeyong's neck one last time before getting up and shuffling to the bathroom. The shower starts up a moment later. Taeyong watches the steam wisps out from the unfinished coffee and into the bright morning silence and sighs.

_It's okay, I'm teaching today._

As he scrolls through his phone to find out where he’ll be teaching, he gets a message from a dance friend and replies to it. It’s a little challenging to write in English, but he learned a lot from Johnny. He reads it over, adding a few more emojis for good measure before hitting send with a sense of accomplishment. Then his eyes catch onto the recently saved contact.

Jeong Jaehyun

It’s strange how official it sounds. All of his friends are saved under their first names or stage names. But it’s different with Jaehyun. He’s just a receptionist, a really good cook, and someone Taeyong met two days ago. But for some reason, he echoes a sense of  familiarity, like they've known each other for a very long time.

Taeyong doesn't open up to strangers easily, but conversation flowed smoothly with Jaehyun. It's strange.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Taeyong types a quick message to wish Jaehyun a good morning. He continues tittering where his dance class will be and when he’ll finish, if the place is close or easily accessible from where Jaehyun lives. He signs off with a pleasant ‘ _Chat soon!_ ’ and closes the messenger app.

When that’s done, Taeyong gets back to work. He starts the music on his phone while mentally running over the choreography, body following in smaller movements.

Five, six, seven, eight.

He marks the motions out, checks his angles on the narrow mirror by the bathroom door. Nothing to worry about.

Still, when section of the music he prepared ends, he turns it back to review it a few more times.

Johnny, who has finished his shower, watches Taeyong dance with a small smile pulling at his lips. He digs in his pack for fresh clothes and changes quietly. It isn’t a good idea to bother Taeyong when he’s dancing.

Taeyong eventually wraps up, and Johnny quickly downs the coffee and croissant Taeyong picked out for him while pulling his pants and buttoning his cardigan.

“Where are you teaching?”

“Hmm, it’s a community centre somewhere in Brooklyn.”

Johnny nods. “Think you'll be walking around there when you're done?”

Taeyong shrugs. “Probably, I'll be catching up with some dance friends.”

“Sounds good. I'll message you when I head back.”

Taeyong smiles sardonically. “Don't wake me up.”

Johnny covers a hand over his heart. “Picking sleep over me? That hurt.”

“Then don’t come back so late.”

The silence that follows drags a little too long. Johnny's eyebrows draw in, and guilt washes through Taeyong's stomach. “I didn't mean that…” he trails off, an apology on the tip of his tongue..

Johnny shakes his head. “It's tough to find work, this is paying me- us.”

“I cover my own bills,” protests Taeyong.

“I know, but maintaining this isn't easy, we are creatives, we gotta hustle.”

It's the same argument that ends all others. Of course Taeyong knows this. He's been hustling for as long as Johnny has, pulling his weight with their rent and bills, which is no easy matter in Seoul. They are creatives trying to survive in a city that is not designed to be friendly to low-income earners. They knew, prior to deciding their career choices, how hard it would be.

 _And Johnny should also know how much he gave up, still giving up, when he chose this life with him,_ Taeyong thinks bitterly.

Johnny looks surprised at the words that tumbled out of his mouth, but he bites his bottom lip from apologizing.

Taeyong's hands tighten into fists.

“I'm heading out now,” Johnny says curtly. He quickly pulls on his coat, grabs his equipment, and escapes the room.

Taeyong stares at the door for a long moment, like waiting for something to happen. But he knows, better than anyone else, that nothing will. He throws himself on the bed, hurt tearing through his chest. _Fucking idiotic piece of shit of a photographer boyfriend who hasn’t even touched him in weeks-_

His phone suddenly vibrates, and he sees a new text message from Jaehyun.

Taeyong growls, suppressing the frustration and anger grating at his patience and clicking into the message.

 **Jeong Jaehyun  
**I live at the hotel

Taeyong stares at the message on his screen for a long minute.

 

 **Taeyong** **  
** What

 **Jeong Jaehyun** **  
**It's a long story  
I can just tell you in person  
Are you free?

Right. The coffee. Taeyong’s almost forgotten everything after the argument he had with Johnny. He wants to resolve the disagreement, but it’s honestly not in his place to do it, especially not this early, when Johnny has work and he, well, he’s still angry. Life isn’t _just_ about romantic relationships. He has other things to do, too.

 **Taeyong** **  
** Breakfast, right?

 **Jeong Jaehyun** **  
** Yeah

 **Taeyong** **  
** Yeah, I am

Jaehyun's reply comes a few minutes later:

 **Jeong Jaehyun** **  
** Cool. Meet you at the lobby in 10?

 **Taeyong** **  
**Sounds good  
See you

Taeyong puts his phone down and gets dressed. He hasn’t even dried his hair. He fumbles for his phone again and types:

 **Taeyong** **  
** Make that 15

 **Jeong Jaehyun** **  
**Ok  
Are you putting on some makeup?

 **Taeyong** **  
**It would take longer than 15 if I were  
I need to pack for dance class  
Don’t flatter yourself

 **Jeong Jaehyun** **  
**I’m plenty flattered already  
You said I had potential last night  
:)

Taeyong sputters at his phone. This guy…

 **Taeyong** **  
** I'm taking it back

With that, he packs his dance clothes, pulls on a baggy blue cardigan over a white turtleneck, and black jeans. To finish off, he tugs on a light coat and his favourite Blundstone's, since forecast said it might rain in the evening.

Checking that he has his passport and giving the hotel room one last glance-over, he leaves for the lobby.

Jaehyun is already there, speaking in hushed tones with another man at the front desk. He waits a few paces away for the conversation to pause before interrupting.

“Good morning,” greets the receptionist.

Jaehyun turns around slightly and nods and smiles at him.

“Good morning…” Taeyong glances down at his name tag: Tail

_...huh._

“It's Taeil, they just messed up the spelling,” the friendly man explains in Korean, noticing his glance.

Taeyong smiles in mild surprise. “I didn't want to believe that a parent would name their kids after posterior appendages. That's an unfortunate misspelling.”

Taeil chuckles, eyes bright with mirth. “Isn't it? I should just marker over the mistake. Though this helps with pronunciation.”

Taeyong shakes his head, expression breaking into a grin. “That isn’t better.”

Taeil chuckles, waving him off. “You get used to it after a while…”

“Taeyong, Lee Taeyong.”

The twinkle in Taeil's eyes intensifies. “Nice to meet you,” he says in English, hand outstretched.

Taeyong clasps to it firmly. “Nice to meet you.”

Taeil tilts his head at Jaehyun, who is watching the exchange with a look of amusement. “Is Jaehyun showing you around today?”

“We're getting breakfast,” Taeyong explains, and Jaehyun nods in affirmation.

“Ah, I see!” Says Taeil.

It looked like he had something else to add, but Jaehyun jumps in quickly. “We should get going if we want to make it for breakfast.”

Taeil smiles at this, but Taeyong doesn’t see the humour. He turns to Jaehyun and is about to ask for clarification, but a look from him stops him from asking. So he nods and tilts his head towards the hotel doors. “Let’s?”

Jaehyun nods with a small smile and turns to Taeil. “Take care today.”

“Have a good breakfast!” Taeil chimes.

Taeyong has never met anyone as bright and smiling as Taeil. That man speaks exclusively in happiness and exclamation marks. He bows quickly and follows after Jaehyun.

“Where are we going?” Jaehyun holds the door for him and they exit together.

“Breakfast.”

“What’s breakfast?”

“You’ll see.”

Taeyong rolls his eyes at the intentional ambiguity. “Why be vague when I’ll find out soon?”

Jaehyun smiles. “That depends. How hungry are you?”

Taeyong pauses for a moment, like feeling the state of his stomach. “A little. I can eat.”

The next question catches him off guard: “How adventurous are you?”

Taeyong looks surprised. “I can be. Why?”

Jaehyun grins. “How do you feel about water?”

This is getting more and more unpredictable. “Like, drinking water? I like it, is that all we're drinking this morning?”

Jaehyun shakes his head with a big grin on his face. "Like crossing a body of water. On a boat.”

“Oh.” Taeyong blushes, adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulders. “I’m not opposed to crossing a body of water on a boat. But also, try to be more descriptive next time.”

Jaehyun chuckles, pausing by the intersection while the red pedestrian light glows brightly back. Taeyong recognizes the direction, they’re going through Central Park. “Sorry,” he says, not sounding the least bit apologetic. “If you don’t get seasick that easily, let’s take the ferry to Brooklyn, there’s a good breakfast place I know.”

Taeyong shoots Jaehyun a look, like wondering what he’s thinking. He expected to get breakfast nearby, so he can get out of Jaehyun's hair as quickly as possible. But he’s also kind of very excited about this breakfast situation. “Isn’t that a little far for breakfast?”

Jaehyun shakes his head. “It’s worth the trip. Plus, I need an excuse to get out of Manhattan anyway.”

Taeyong scoffs, but he can empathize. During his busier months, there will be lulls of time where he doesn’t want to do anything. “Lazy. What do you even do on your days off?”

“I technically only have one day off a week. I’m on call today, so I can’t be over an hour away from the hotel in case everything goes to hell.”

Taeyong laughs. “What are the chances?”

Jaehyun shrugs, leading them through a clearing. The wind picks up and tussles their hairs this way and that. He sighs and tames his hair with effort, and Taeyong does the same. “The hotel is properly staffed now, but half a year ago when two of our workers went on maternity leave, and one got fired from using drugs during work hours, it was a bit rough.”

Taeyong shoots Jaehyun a measured look. “I’m not sure if you’re pulling at my leg here.”

Jaehyun shakes his head. “I don’t lie.” Before Taeyong says anything, he adds, “And don’t even ask about the ghosts, we’re not supposed to talk about it.”

Taeyong closes his mouth and scowl at Jaehyun, who grins at his predictability. “Stop doing that, guessing my next words. Plus, you’re being so mysterious about the spooky stories. I’m not going to leave a bad review if you told me.”

Jaehyun lets out a bark of laughter. “So you’d leave a bad review if I didn’t tell you?”

Taeyong nods with a winning grin. “That's right.”

Jaehyun shoots him a curious side-glance. “You won’t get spooked out?”

Taeyong nods. “I won’t.”

“Well, okay. Some time in the 80’s a couple was going to get married in the hotel. As the bride walked down the stairs, her heel got caught in her dress and she fell head first. Didn’t make it. I’ve heard people say they’ve seen a woman wearing vintage clothes walking around the foyer some times, but I’ve never seen her myself.”

Taeyong blinks. “With the fashion trend going back decades, it might be hard to tell if it’s a ghost or a millennial.”

Jaehyun laughs, low and hearty. “Don’t let Taeil hear you, he’ll get scared.”

Taeyong snickers. “Any other stories?”

Jaehyun nods yes, eyes twinkling with amusement.

“There's another one. Some people have reported to hear kids running up and down the hallways very late in the evening. After checking the security cameras, there were no kids. Then I heard that around ten years ago, the building beside ours caught on fire. Everyone tried to escape, but due to poor emergency clearances, a few people died. Of those was a pair of siblings, aged 7 and 10.”

The breeze picks up again, and Taeyong wraps the light jacket tighter around him.

Jaehyun catches the action and smiles. “Spooked?”

Taeyong shakes his head. “It’s windy.”

Jaehyun hums lightheartedly, a smile tugging at his lips. “Are you scared of spirits and ghosts?”

Taeyong shrugs. “I’m not sure that they exist, even if there are these stories around.” He imagines a poltergeist situation, or the cheesy exorcist scene from Ringu, and shakes his head before continuing, “But if they do exist, I don’t think I’d be scared.”

“That confident?”

Taeyong nods. “Humans are scarier than ghosts.”

Jaehyun snickers and nudges Taeyong’s shoulder. “I'm not sure that your logic is sound.”

Taeyong makes a dismissive sound. “Anymore stories?”

Jaehyun rattles his memory, and nods slowly. “Don’t quote me on this, I only vaguely remember hearing about this from my boss when I first joined. Before the hotel renovated, there was a room where someone was murdered in, and bloodied fingerprints would randomly appear and disappear on the mirror. But that hasn’t happened since the hotel was bulldozed down and rebuilt again.”

“...huh. That’s, that’s.”

“A little scary?”

“A little,” Taeyong admits with a wry smile. “Has it really not happened since the renovation?”

“Not that I know of, but I’ve only been working here for a year, so who knows.” Jaehyun smirks. “Let’s turn right here. There's a station down this way.”

They wait for the lights, and Jaehyun does this thing that mildly concerns Taeyong. He walks into the traffic lane where there's a car parked right before the pedestrian walkway, but is still the street. A right turning car could crash right into him. His fingers itch in his jacket pocket. _Would it be too much to pull him back?_

The lights turn, and they cross the street safely. Taeyong lets out a silent sigh of relief, and Jaehyun carries on with the conversation. “Do you have a MetroCard?”

Taeyong shakes his head. “I’ll need to pick one up.”

“That’s fine, we'll pick one up now.” Jaehyun breezes through the doors and down the escalator, and Taeyong follows with a glint in his eyes. He’s observed a lot of people, from fellow dancers to students, so he’s hyper aware of how people move. Jaehyun moves like someone who is quick on their feet and has fast reflexes. it's almost like…

“Do you dance?” He asks, staring at the back of Jaehyun’s neck as they wait for the escalator to reach the bottom.

Jaehyun looks back in surprise. “I used to, when I was young. I haven’t danced in over a decade though.”

Taeyong nods slowly. They get to the bottom of the escalators and Taeyong turns to the MetroCard machines, Jaehyun lingering just behind him. There are no Korean translations on these machines yet. Taeyong takes his time to read over the English on the screen before selecting the button. Then he pauses at a particular screen.

“Jae?”

Jaehyun looks up from his phone. “Hm?”

“What is area code?”

“Oh. You can just put in the hotel’s. Let me-”

As Taeyong steps away, Jaehyun scans over the text on the screen and clicks on a few more buttons. “Cash or credit?”

“Cash.”

Jaehyun presses a button and moves back, allowing Taeyong to insert some bills into the machine. A MetroCard spits out moments later. Jaehyun bites back a smirk and strides towards the turnstile. “Let’s see if you can do this the New Yorker way.”

“What New Yorker way?” Taeyong asks curiously, swiping the flimsy card against the machine. It doesn’t go.

 **Try Again** , the turnstile says.

He scowls, and Jaehyun’s snickers echo through the station. He gets it the second time, but the glare he shoots at Jaehyun to get him to shut up speaks volumes of his embarrassment. As does the blush that spreads across his cheeks. He reconsiders treating Jaehyun to breakfast, especially when the other man is still laughing at him, but the words don’t come out. Eventually, the heat cools off as they walk down the stairs and into a train, with Jaehyun leading the way.

“I’m still baffled by the lack of signage and the amount of tracks you have at the same level. Which genius came up with this great idea?” Taeyong grumbles, settling next to the seated Jaehyun.

Jaehyun types at something on his phone, and Taeyong feels slightly put off for being ignored. Then he realizes that Jaehyun was Googling his question, and feels a pang of excitement.

“Started building in 1863, still a work in progress for some line extensions. Owned by the Government of New York City,” recites Jaehyun. He looks up to meet Taeyong’s attentive gaze in surprise. “What?”

“Nothing. That’s cool. I’m learning about the city I’m travelling in.” Taeyong smiles widely. “Tell me more.”

Jaehyun obliges, repeating more facts from the Wikipedia page as they travel southbound. When he finishes tittering off the information, Taeyong’s eyes are half-lidded and glazed over as he stares off into the distance.

“Stop telling me to recite this info if you're just gonna tune out on me,” Jaehyun complains, nudging Taeyong's shoulder again to shake him up.

Taeyong snaps back and flashes an apologetic look, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. “Sorry, was never fond of history.”

“I can tell,” comes Jaehyun's dry reply.

Taeyong hums, looking around the subway car. It’s still relatively early in the morning, but most of the seats are already taken with morning commuters.

“Do people work on Saturday’s here?” He asks curiously. It’s not uncommon for some office jobs in Seoul to go six days a week. New York City is just as big and busy, so perhaps?

“It’s uncommon, but it happens. Finance jobs and part-time jobs mostly,” Jaehyun replies, meeting Taeyong’s gaze.

“Like you, you work five days a week and are on call for one,” Taeyong remembers, like confirming the information.

Jaehyun nods. “It changes, but yeah, that’s the basic gist of it.”

Taeyong hums thoughtfully, nodding. Then he remembers something and quickly turns to Jaehyun. “You never said why you live at the hotel. Is that normal?”

Jaehyun smiles, shaking his head. “Not really. I’m actually from Connecticut, but I came down here to look for a job.” He scratches the side of his neck absent-mindedly. “I gave myself half a year to find something, and I got lucky. I was hired within a month of job hunting, the interview went well, and my boss really liked me. When I told her about my situation, that I didn’t have much money to spend on rent, she offered one of the employee rooms on ground floor. Apparently it’s not uncommon for hotel staff to live on premise.”

Taeyong nods, taking in the information. “How far is Connecticut from here?”

“About a two hour drive if you obey the speed restrictions.” The secretive grin that follows tells Taeyong that Jaehyun definitely doesn’t do that. He bites back a grin.

“How was life in Connecticut? And what's it like compared with here?”

Jaehyun shrugs and begins to share his story. Life in Connecticut was normal, if not a little boring. It is close enough to a big city to take in the new trends and gadgets, but not close enough to be a hub of its own. Its winters are cold, windy, and has as much snow as New York City. After all, it's not that far. But in terms of lifestyle, Manhattan is bustling with energy in all hours of the day, seven days a week. Everyone had a lot of character, the city a lot of charm. Jaehyun was instantly captivated by the hustle bustle.

He’s visited New York a few times with his folks in the past, and he'd often romanticized what it would be like living here. But when he finally moved down, his perspective of the city changed. It's kind of chaotic, a little lonely, the energy and grandeur became less charming. Instead, he turns to love the quiet and the calm.

He hasn't met any friends here, most of which are his coworkers, some were his friends from university who have also moved South for their careers.

Taeyong listens to this with a quiet, speculative light in his eyes. When Jaehyun is done, he asks, “What about dating? It can't be that hard to find someone in a city like this. There are literally millions here.”

Jaehyun shrugs. “I don't have the biggest interest in dating. I was too focused on finding a job at the beginning, then the steep learning curve of working in a hotel had most of my time and attention.”

Taeyong shoots him a look like he's not buying one word of this, and Jaehyun smiles a little sardonically. “Okay, so I did go on a few dates, but nothing came out of those. Just didn't feel the compatibility.”

Taeyong scoffs. “You're still young, compatibility should be the last thing on your mind.”

“I’m only two years younger. And maybe I just prefer to invest my time on things that last.”

Taeyong hums quietly, deigning to reply.

The conversation lulls for a bit, where Taeyong thinks about what it means for him and Johnny, that he never considered their relationship from the long-term perspective, and Jaehyun finds out that the bar lighting was not what made Taeyong even more beautiful and alluring.

“Do you want-”  
“How do you-”

Taeyong pauses, meeting Jaehyun's eyes, who looks away quickly.

“You first.”

Taeyong nods. “Do you want to join my dance class later?”

Jaehyun looks at him like he's grown another head. When Taeyong stares back with a serious expression he looks down at his feet and sees that he wore his sneakers out today. Well.

“I don't… what style of dance is this again?”

“Hip hop, beginner intermediate level. Something tells me you'll be able to pick it up quickly.”

“What exactly is that?”

Taeyong smiles secretively. “Gut feeling. What do you say?”

Jaehyun plays at a stray thread on his sleeve. “I'll think about it.”

Taeyong nods. “Just extending the offer. It'll be fun, I promise.”

“What song?”

“You'll find out if you go,” Taeyong replied with a teasing grin, and Jaehyun laughs, corners of his eyes crinkling delightfully, with dimples and all.

Taeyong's breath catches in his throat and he quickly looks away.

This… this is just physical attraction, isn't it? He didn't think too much about this, didn't want or care to, but he's not blind. Jaehyun is attractive. He's also very attentive and easy to talk to. It's almost like how Johnny was when they started dating three years ago-

He swallows and tries to suppress the blush that’s slowly creeping across his cheeks.

It's nothing. It'll blow over, he convinces himself. He's better than this, he shouldn't be so easily moved. Both he and Johnny made this very clear from the beginning, they were exclusive, and that sat fine with Taeyong. He's not the type to share.

Taeyong doesn't realize but the conversation has come to another pause, and Jaehyun regards him from the corner of his eyes.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah… just, um, nervous, I think.”

“Hmm, the class? Is it the language barrier?”

Not knowing what else to say, Taeyong nods.

“Want to practice now?”

Taeyong scrunches his nose at the suggestion. “I don’t think it works that way.”

“You don’t need to give dancing instructions, just try to speak English in normal conversation.”

Taeyong looks around the subway, suddenly feeling self-conscious. But Jaehyun looks at him with kind, encouraging eyes so he thinks, Fuck it, what’s there to lose? He takes a deep breath, and in a slightly accented English, says, “Okay, um. Hi, my name is Taeyong, I am from South Korea, I am dance teacher. Nice to meet you!”

Jaehyun holds back a chuckle at the textbook greeting. “Hi Taeyong, It’s nice to meet you. My name is Jaehyun and I’m from the States.”

Taeyong nods, rattling his brain for the next words, after translating them from Korean to English. “Uh, what you like to. Um. What are your hobbies?”

“I like to play basketball and swim. I also like to watch movies. What about you?”

“I also like movies-”

“Wait, we have to get off here.” Jaehyun quickly switches back to Korean, and stands to his feet. Taeyong follows a step behind, and the two shuffle off the 33rd Street station. It’s surprisingly busy, and Taeyong almost loses Jaehyun. He’s not short or small by any means, and Seoul’s foot traffic is comparable to New York’s, but his mind is preoccupied from his earlier discovery and doesn’t catch up fast enough. Again, his hand wants to reach for Jaehyun’s arm to stop him from walking so fast, but he doesn’t.

When Taeyong exits the station, Jaehyun is waiting off to the side with a sheepish look. “I thought you were right behind me. You could’ve called out just now.”

Taeyong rolls his eyes. “I’m a whole adult, I won’t get lost.”

Jaehyun bites his lip from smiling. “I’ll feel bad if I lost you,” he says quietly. “This way.”

They cross a few streets and reach the ferry docks, where Jaehyun pays for their tickets to board the ferry and sail off to Brooklyn. The day is chilly with strong winds, clouds and small breaks of sun, for which Taeyong is grateful. Thankfully they don’t have to wait too long, the ferry pulls to the side of the docks and they board it within ten minutes. Jaehyun suggests that they sit inside but Taeyong, eager to explore and experience more of the city, urges him to go on the roof.

So they do.

The sun comes out from behind the clouds in moments, sprinkling the metropolis with glitter and gold. Manhattan’s skyline is a wonder to behold. The buildings, old and new, mix into a cacophony of shapes and colours. Construction cranes arch over the edges of the city, building yet newer, more shiny skyscrapers. Taeyong takes a lot of pictures on his phone, grinning at the sight before him.

“What’s Seoul like these days?”

Taeyong makes a noise of surprise, almost slipping as the ferry leaps through a series of rougher waves. Jaehyun steadies him quickly with a hand gripping to his arm, then guiding Taeyong back to his seat.

“Thanks,” Taeyong mutters, ignoring the warmth spreading from the point of contact. “Seoul is… Seoul. There’s a lot of old people busy working white collared jobs. Younger people are obsessed with fashion, beauty, and the booming pop music industry. Shopping is great, food is cheaper than in America and Canada, and the convenience stores are actually convenient. The people are … well. You’re treated like family until you challenge social norms, then shit goes downhill.”

Jaehyun sees the bitter pain reflected in Taeyong’s eyes and slouches on the seat. “It’s not always like that though, is it? You’re working as a freelance dancer, you don’t get exposed to that stuff as much, right?”

Taeyong shakes his head. “The average Korean holds to tradition with stubborn pride. Sure, younger people are aware that things are different in other countries, but they’re not as open to change as, for example, Canada, where same-sex marriage has been legal since 2005.”

Upon Jaehyun’s raised eyebrow, Taeyong continues, “I do a bit of research before visiting the countries I’ll be working in, if not to be more culturally educated, then to at least know what the young people are like, so when I teach them I have references to draw from.”

Jaehyun looks impressed. “Wow, that’s a lot of work.”

Taeyong shrugs offhandedly. “It could be, but localizing teaching methods is important, because dance is all about connection.”

The bright look in Taeyong’s eyes is not lost on Jaehyun, who smiles fondly when he sees it.

“Fair.”

They sit in a moment of relative quiet while the noise from other passengers gets drowned out by the ferry’s loud engine and the strong winds. Taeyong takes a few more pictures as the ferry slows and docks on a side.

“How many stops are we passing?” He asks curiously.

“A few, I’m not actually sure myself.”

It’s not just a few. They end up spending around half an hour on the ferry, where Jaehyun mistakes a bridge for the Brooklyn Bridge, but Taeyong _knows_ how the Brooklyn bridge looks and the one they just past was definitely not it. He was right, the Brooklyn Bridge is up ahead, and they pass that one too to dock somewhere south of it.

Taeyong laughs at Jaehyun’s slip up.

“Oh come on, it’s not like I can remember all the bridges here, I don’t even take this ferry!”

“There are probably ten times more bridges in Seoul than there are here. You have no excuses to not know your bridge.”

“I only moved here a year ago!”

“Okay let me look this up.” A pause, then: “There are over two thousand bridges in New York City… what the hell.”

Jaehyun snickers. “Hold on, let me look up Seoul-”

“Already did, twenty-six. This isn’t right. Are they counting all the smaller bridges that don’t actually cross over bodies of water?”

“Doesn’t matter, that’s still over two thousand bridges you expected me to know, which is just plain unreasonable.”

“Wait, I just found another source! Says here that there are twenty-one bridges that connect Manhattan to other Burroughs and States. Hah, less than Seoul!”

“Don’t get it twisted, it’s _over two thousand bridges according to Wikipedia_ -”

“Oh shut up you.”

They wear twin exasperated, highly amused smiles as they get off the ferry. Jaehyun directs them to a building where the infamous bagel store resides, and Taeyong immediately straightens from the smell of amazing food.

“What is this? Wow have I never seen this before!?”

Jaehyun chuckles. “New York style breakfast food. Try the bagel and lox, they’re amazing here.”

A pause.

“That’s… smoked fish on a piece of bread, according to the internet.”

“What did I say about trying first before you make your judgment?”

Taeyong grumbles, and orders his first ever bagel and lox. The salmon has a strong smoked wood flavour and is paired with a thin layer of cream cheese and sandwiched between two ends of a sesame bagel. It’s absolutely delicious and Taeyong tries to not react as to not give Jaehyun the satisfaction of being right (yet again), but the twinkle in Jaehyun’s eyes tell him he already knows.

“Okay, _fine_ , it’s good,” he grumbles, admitting defeat.

“I know.” Jaehyun smirks winningly. “Let’s go, it takes about twenty minutes to get to the community centre.”

Taeyong checks the time on his phone, and looks at Jaehyun with a look of admiration in his eyes. “Wow, you’re really good with this timing thing.”

Jaehyun shrugs, a little abashed. “I’ve had to think quick on my feet a few times, working at the hotel. Lots of travellers come up to me asking about day trip suggestions, so I got quick with googling bus, train, and ferry schedules. I also got really fast learning about the opening and closing times of Manhattan’s most famous landmarks.”

Taeyong whistles. “Damn, didn’t know a hotel receptionist needed to know all these things. Is that even your title?”

“For the past year, yeah. I’ve upgraded to a hotel manager this month, but I’ve had to take care of everything from bottom up since I started.”

Taeyong looks at Jaehyun at the intersection, and the latter points to the right. Taeyong smiles and crosses the street. “That raise better look good.”

Jaehyun shoves his hands in his pocket, wearing a neutral expression. “It’s not bad. I’m also living at the hotel, so they dock off some pay for lodging. But I’ve been learning a lot, so I can’t complain.”

“Sounds like it, especially for a first job.”

“Mhm. What about you? What’s your first job like?”

The wind suddenly picks up, sending a wave of sand and brown leaves against them. Taeyong flinches and squints his eyes a little, like trying to stop something from flying in. “Well, my first job is… actually not related to dancing.”

Beside him, Jaehyun also shields his eyes with a hand and replies with a vague, “Oh?”

“I briefly talked about this last night, but I majored in business and Korean literature back home, actually. So my first job was working as a business analyst at the Korea Tourism Organization.”

This information meets silence, where Jaehyun regards Taeyong with something akin to awe. “What, you thought I was a dumb dancer?”

Jaehyun startles, immediately shaking his head. “No, never!”

“Suspicious…” teases Taeyong, winking playfully.

Jaehyun sputters for about a minute, mumbling about stupid (not literally) dancers and their stupid duality. “I remembered a little from last night. Honestly though, it just surprised me that you’ve undergone so much dance training only to major in something like business. They’re on opposite sides of the spectrum.”

Taeyong smiles a little. “A traditional Korean parent would be ecstatic over their kid making sound education decisions.”

The corner of Jaehyun’s lips downturn as he scrunches his nose. “Sounds kinda awful.”

“It’s what it is.”

Jaehyun says nothing. He wants to disagree, but he knows it’s not easy. He was lucky to be born to more open-minded parents, accepting and pushing their son to discover what he really wants to do instead of lining up mandatory milestones for the rest of his life. He was lucky to grow up in a country where he could explore sexuality with an open mind. There were jeers and bullying, but there were also support once he saw further than high school. Taeyong likely had none of those.

As they near the community centre, Taeyong turns to him with a slight smile on his face and says, “Join me?”

He doesn’t have the heart to say no, instead, he smiles crookedly and says, “You better have extra clothes I can fit in.”

Taeyong throws a sly wink over his shoulder, entering the building. “Why do you think I took so long to pack?”

Jaehyun blinks at his back.

“C’mon, I gotta change and warm up!”

 

Taeyong, Jaehyun realizes, is almost unrecognizable when dancing.

Jaehyun does his best to follow the moves, but the class isn’t meant for beginners with two years of rusty dancing knowledge. He marvels at himself for even remembering the steps and hand motions correctly, but he has no sense of musicality, nor the flexibility, to make anything look good.

On the other hand, there are kids to adults around him doing a better job at picking up the nuances and making the choreography into their own. He learns, from Taeyong’s shy English, that these moves are very ‘in the pocket’; that is, to take it in, make it your own, and spit it back out.

Taeyong uses examples and anecdotes to relay the effect or emotion of that move. They’re also funny little bits that make Jaehyun laugh. For example, when Taeyong throws his palm out in front of him, he calls it the “Ironman move”, and the younger dancers instantly get it. Powerful, fast. For the older generation, he switches the name to “the Super Saiyan Goku move”, and the smiles will grow on the adult’s faces.

There are also times when he calls out the dance moves what they are, like ball change (transferring your weight from one ball of the foot to the other), happy feet (it takes too much effort to explain this, but it looks as cool as it sounds cute), and a few others that Jaehyun forgets in light of picking up and memorizing the choreography.

It’s a two-hour session that starts with a healthy amount of stretching to upbeat music, and ends with stretching to Celine Dion’s My Heart Will Go On. In the two hours, Jaehyun finds himself surprised by two things:

One: there are maybe a hundred students in the community centre room, which looks to be a gym with a raised platform at the front. A hundred students looking up at Taeyong who, despite his shy English, brings out the energy and joy of dancing. Jaehyun expected maybe a class size of thirty, forty if he’s pushing it.

Two: they danced to Shoop by Salt-N-Pepa. He wants to ask why Taeyong chose a song like that, but he already sees where the conversation might go.

Taeyong’s borrowed clothes (they fit a little baggy on him, and probably very baggy on Taeyong) are drenched in sweat. Taeyong doesn’t do anything half-measure. His eyes are quick and calculative, collecting where most students have trouble with, drill the bits, and add more choreo when most are at a comfortable level. He was quick, encouraging and frankly a little ruthless, but he pushed everyone a bit over their comfort levels, which seemed like the welcoming norm from the amount of pictures he was asked to take after the class.

Jaehyun waits for a few minutes, but the line of students don’t seem to diminish, so he goes to the bathroom and cleans and changes, folding the fabric inwards to keep the sweat from the surface, and treads back to the gym. He locates Taeyong quickly, who hasn’t really moved from the spot near the front, and the other catches his gaze and waves him over.

Taeyong isn’t surrounded by students now, they look to be dancers too.

Taeyong steps away from the circle to greet him. “How did you find it?”

Jaehyun smiles and rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “I tried to follow the best I could. You were amazing though.”

“Wasn’t he?” Echoes a voice in the background, in slightly accented Korean.

Taeyong turns around and shoots a warning look at the man who spoke. “Shut it, Ten.”

The man, red-haired and lean, wears a cheeky smile while giving Jaehyun a once over none too subtly. “Who’s this?”

Taeyong rolls his eyes, already immune to his friend’s antics. “Jaehyun, he’s a new friend.”

Ten makes a low sound of appreciation. “Are you a dancer too?”

Jaehyun smiles a little. “No, I was dragged here by him. I work at the hotel he’s staying at.”

Ten looks shocked. “Hotel! Really now, what’s the back story?”

Taeyong steps between the two and turns to Ten with a death glare. “It’s not like that. Stop being weird.”

The sly smirk on Ten’s face tells Taeyong that his warnings go unheeded, but he does back off. “You meet the most interesting people, Lee Taeyong.”

“And you’re being hella weird,” pipes in a new voice. A tall man… maybe boy, pipes in.

“Jisung. Nice to meet you, hyung,” introduces the younger man, sticking his gigantic hand out. His accent is one hundred percent from Seoul. Jaehyun shakes it, feeling a little out of place.

“Jaehyun, nice to meet you.”

Ten steps back in. “Anyway, I’m going to change now. Tae, let’s get drinks later okay?”

Taeyong flicks Ten’s arm none too gently. “Alcoholic. Don’t you have a class in the evening?”

Ten smirks and shrugs a little. “When has that ever stopped me?” Without waiting for a reply, he sashays to the change rooms, and Jisung follows suit after giving a short bow to Taeyong and a wave at Jaehyun.

“These are your dance friends?” Jaehyun asks, bemused.

“They’re both from Seoul. Ten moved to Korea at an early age to get more exposure and training from international dancers, and Jisung has been my dance junior for years now. Ten is now based out of New York, he was the one who hooked Jisung and I to today’s gig. Jisung taught the first session this morning.” Taeyong points to something by the entrance, and that’s when Jaehyun notices the white board with the dance program’s name and consequent schedules scribbled on it.

“Wow, that’s really cool.”

Taeyong grins at the impressed look on his face. “Isn’t it? Jisung is only nineteen, but he’s already taking the international dance community by the storm.”

“Nineteen!?” Jaehyun exclaims in astonishment. “Wow…”

“Prodigy, it’s kind of crazy how good he is,” Taeyong smiles proudly. “Anyway, I should go change too. Wait for me?”

Jaehyun nods quickly. “Of course, take your time.”

They end up grabbing coffee at a nearby café (because Jisung is technically not old enough to drink in America and Ten likes to be inclusive), and Jisung bemoans about university, girls stalking him from studio to home, and the compulsory military service. Taeyong, having already finished his two years, commiserates. Ten had all but avoided the draft with a stroke of luck, and pats the young man on the shoulder reassuringly.

It is now where Jaehyun comes to the realization that Taeyong probably knows how to put together a gun and fire shots, and becomes even more dazed. Ten recognizes the look and smirks at the man.

“Aren’t you glad you moved to America? You avoided all this unnecessary shit.”

Jaehyun chuckles, throat closing up a bit. “I mean, it’s for the sake of patriotism and protecting the country, right? That’s an admirable reason.”

Taeyong makes a dismissive sound, cheeks rosy. “Most young people don’t care about that stuff. In the military, everyone’s treated like they’re expendable it’s defeating. The food is shit, and you don’t even get paid well.”

Jaehyun eyes at the spiked coffee in Taeyong’s hand in question. For someone who berated the very suggestion of drinking in the early afternoon, Taeyong was the first to buckle. But then again, it’s not everyday that he encounters a cocktail that serves a golden marshmallow as garnish.

Jisung flops to the table, sipping on his grapefruit juice. “I don’t know when I should do it, my career’s just starting and I don’t want to disappear for two years. It’s so stupid.”

Ten coos at the younger man, reassuring him that he’ll have a fanbase that follows his every movement, students who will count down the days to when he’s released from military confinement, and studios who will gladly hire him with full contracts making a tall pile on his desk. It makes Jisung smile a little, and Taeyong shoots a soft look at Jaehyun, who smiles in return. 

When they say their goodbyes (Ten still has a class to teach, and Jisung tags along to make the most out of his trip), Taeyong lets out a long sigh and stretches his arms over his head.

Jaehyun already feels his back and knees aching from all the dancing he did.

“Ten is a handful sometimes, but he has a heart of gold,” Taeyong says softly as he watches Ten and Jisung disappear down the subway entrance. “And Jisung kind of reminds me of how I was when I was his age. He’s bitching about it now, but he’s already signed up to join the army come the new year.”

Jaehyun smiles. “He sounds like he’ll be in good hands when he finishes his military service.”

Taeyong nods. “He has nothing to worry about. He’s still young and has a lot of opportunities ahead. Two years won’t scratch away his potential.”

“Spoken like a true wise, old man,” Jaehyun teases.

The corners of Taeyong’s eyes crinkle, but instead of replying, he tilts his head and grins. “I’m glad you made it out today. It was fun to dance with you.”

Jaehyun returns his grin. “It’s hard to say no when you expected me to join along.”

“Dancing is fun.” Taeyong thinks a bit before adding, “And therapeutic.”

“It was pretty fun. I never would’ve expected to learn a choreography to Shoop,” Jaehyun smirks.

Taeyong laughs. “What can I say, it’s a great song.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

They stare at each other for a beat, then Taeyong looks away. “So, what are your plans for the rest of the day?”

“Still nothing.”

It’s what Taeyong expects. He doesn’t want to be going back to the hotel alone just yet.

“Wanna walk across the Brooklyn Bridge with me?”

Jaehyun scoffs. “What am I, a tourist?”

Taeyong scrunches his nose and smiles. The setting sun reflects off of his irises, painting his cheeks with a pink glow. Jaehyun stands transfixed to the spot.

“My tour guide, obviously.”

 

It normally takes half an hour to cross the Brooklyn Bridge, but Taeyong stops by several points to take weird-angled pictures, so Jaehyun stays by his side as he crouches low, or climbs up a little too high (and maybe a little illegal) for the shots. They come out looking strange, but cool, and Taeyong shares them with Jaehyun through Kakaotalk.

There are a lot of tourists on the bridge, and some good ol’ New Yorkers pushing past the crowd on their bikes and skateboards. Before they know it, they make it to the other side.

Taeyong announces that he’s hungry, and Jaehyun brings him to dollar pizzas, because he feels bad for last night’s dinner, and this really is as local as it gets.

(“Have you really seen a pizza rat before?”

“Yeah, they’re as big as cats. It’s kinda disgusting.”

“Wow, shit.”

“Uh huh.”)

After that, Jaehyun pulls Taeyong down the subway, where they take a train up to Hell’s Kitchen for ice cream, then slowly stroll up the West side to get back to the hotel.

Jaehyun asks about Taeyong’s military experience, so the slighter man talks about the discipline, training, and how he was a ground troop and served only 21 months, not the full 2 years. He was scared that he would break something, affecting his skills as a dancer, or that the country would suddenly find herself in the path of incoming missiles and on red alert for war. He didn’t suffer from PTSD, but the discipline of making his bed every morning stuck like gum to hair.

And yes, Taeyong knew how to put together a gun and take a shot in a really short time, Jaehyun learns, and he has pretty good accuracy too, if the pictures of the target practice with gaping holes around the chest are anything to go by.

Taeyong just laughs shyly and tucks his phone away. “It’s not that hard to aim and shoot.”

“Please don’t say that so loudly, I’m kinda fearing for my life now.”

 

As they walk along the outskirts of Central Park, they grow quiet. The sky that once boasted a lovely salmon pink is now mixed with rich cobalt and Prussian blue, and stars are barely visible because of the light pollution.

It’s grown colder too, so Taeyong pulls his coat closer around him and sniffs a bit. Jaehyun walks beside him, silent and in his own thoughts.

“Thinking about something?” Taeyong asks, sparing a side glance at Jaehyun.

“Yeah, I’m still a big hungry.”

Correction: Jaehyun walks beside him, silent and contemplating food.

Taeyong snorts. “I don’t know how you keep that figure with the amount you boast to eat.”

“You do the same. I fed you a whole feast last night and you polished everything off without a single crumb left,” Jaehyun shoots back.

“There were crumbs. Also, it was delicious and I don’t like to waste food.”

“It _was_ delicious.”

Taeyong wants to smack the cocky grin off his face, he’s never met a more infuriating man with such a big ego.

“One would almost think this ego boasting is trying to compensate for other things,” he sneers.

“Wanna check?” Jaehyun wiggles his eyebrows.

“Ew, no thanks.” As he says this, Taeyong feels his face flush a bright red, and thanks his lucky stars that it’s too dark to be visible.

“What was it again, something about tall, dark and handsome, with a penchant for visual arts and a bit of a romantic? I’m all of those things,” Jaehyun says, wearing a serious expression.

“And the big dick,” Taeyong reminds, laughing at the absurdity of this conversation.

“Even the big dick,” Jaehyun adds, the corner of his mouth twitching up.

“You’re crazy.”

“Probably a bit. You don’t work in a haunted hotel and not get affected.”

Taeyong raises an eyebrow. “Not funny, Jae.”

“Fine, so maybe that was a lie, but that’s the only lie I’ve told so far.”

They’re down the street from the hotel now, and Taeyong feels a flutter of butterflies in his stomach. It seems that, regardless of what he thinks, his heart is still truthful and unaffected. His mind chooses this moment to remind Taeyong that this is like Jaehyun is walking him home, and it is kind of sweet.

“Any plans for tomorrow?” He stammers, trying to block out the voice in his head.

“I usually call my parents on my day off. Barring that, not really.” Jaehyun shoots him an inquisitive look. “Why? Do you want me to play tour guide again? I might start charging you.”

“I… just want to explore the city, it would be nice to have some company.”

The admission comes out a little truthful, a little too raw.

Jaehyun doesn’t say anything for a moment, but his steps slow to a stop. Taeyong stops after him and looks back.

He reads a few emotions in Jaehyun’s eyes. Happiness, gratitude, and something else. He thinks that they might be reflected in his eyes as well.

“Are you sure?” Jaehyun asks, voice above a whisper.

It’s stuffy. The air is cool and too stuffy, so Taeyong breaks it with a crooked smile and a nod. “Since you have nothing to do anyway, the sun would do you some good. You’re too pale!”

Jaehyun doesn’t respond. He looks at Taeyong for a moment longer, like he’s thinking about the implications too. When he does react, it’s a small smile tugging across his features.

“I’ve always been pale growing up. I’m the fairest of them all.”

Taeyong laughs, and Jaehyun chuckles as well. Because how did he even have the balls to say that in front of a man who looks the way Taeyong does? He looks… unreal. There are no other words to describe his beauty.

“If you spoke like that in the military, you’d get smacked so quickly you’d never do it again.” Taeyong smiles fondly, resuming their walk. They’re close enough to peer through the windows now. Jaehyun sees a familiar figure working the front desk.

“It’s probably a good idea I’m not a Korean then. My mouth tends to run a bit.”

“A bit?”

“It gets worse with alcohol.”

“Hope I don’t see it. I’d hate to be the one to smack you up.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t sound like fun for me either.”

They’re on the steps of the entrance now, and Taeyong quickly turns to Jaehyun, who startles at the movement. Taeyong takes a small step forward, then slowly, with a question in his eyes, he opens his arms.

And Jaehyun, he instinctively walks into the embrace, wrapping his arms around Taeyong’s middle to pull him close.

“Thanks for today.” Taeyong’s voice is muffled against the fabric of Jaehyun’s jacket.

Jaehyun doesn’t say anything, but he tightens his grip, and Taeyong thinks that it might be louder than words.

He squeezes his eyes shut, breathing shallowly, before stepping back and letting go.

“Have a good night, Taeyong.”

Jaehyun’s hesitant smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Night, Jae.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know. I feel the pain too. It hurt me and I just needed to share-
> 
> Hey, how are y'all doing? Still okay after that? Cool. I probably screamed like hell (internally) while writing this. But let me know what you think (please tell me you screamed too because... yeah, it can't be just me, can it?) A few things! [Listen to Shoop](https://youtu.be/4vaN01VLYSQ) or at the very least, read the lyrics. You'll get why Jaehyun felt the way he did. To all those who read, subscribed, kudos'd, and left sweet messages, thank you. I hope you enjoyed this chapter too <3
> 
> Take care and tread softly.


	4. 04

Taeyong wakes up with a jump, remembering a fleeting dream of getting chased by something. The dream disappears with each passing second, and he’s left with a feeling of fear and loss, not knowing what had caused it, and it unsettles him.

He doesn't want to read too much into this, but he's not ignorant to how he feels. He's also not ignorant of what he knows to be true.

What happened with Jaehyun was no more than a passing fancy, but this  brief encounter makes him take a harder look at his relationship with Johnny to realize what's been missing. Jaehyun could've been anyone and he would've still felt this. But one realization comes as a surprise to Taeyong: he misses home.

Jaehyun spoke Korean, even if it’s with a bit of an accent; he sounded familiar, felt familiar. He made Taeyong suddenly realize how much he misses being home, where communication is not daunting. He misses the smells and streets, the sounds and people.

He also knows this to be true: he still likes Johnny, still enjoys the time they spend together and the conversations they share. It's just the stupid argument that threw everything off.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he sits up to use the bathroom, only to find that Johnny hasn't come back.

He reaches for his phone. 2:09 am, no new messages. Johnny did say his schedules stretched late.

Sighing, Taeyong puts his phone away and stumbles to the bathroom.

•••

When Taeyong wakes up again, it’s later than he’s used to. He hears Johnny shuffling into the bathroom and the shower turns on a moment later.

Taeyong stretches his arms out and above his head, then falls back onto the pillow. A quick check on his phone shows that it's just before 10 am, and he wonders if it's a good idea to jog or if he should figure out what he wants to do that day instead.

He scrolls through his phone, looking through day trip options when Johnny comes out from the shower.

“Morning,” mutters the taller man.

“Morning. How did you sleep?”

Johnny shrugs, pulling out a Metallica t-shirt and a jean jacket from his pack. “Didn’t sleep much, came back late.”

Taeyong looks down at the sheets around him, and absentmindedly smooths the creases. Time, it’s always what it comes down to. How much time they spend in preparation for and at work. How much time they spend travelling, eating, sleeping. How much time they spend with each other-

Taeyong shakes his head. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired, mostly.” Johnny pauses as the t-shirt goes over his head. “Hungry too. I have a late start today, wanna grab something to eat?”

“Sure. Do you have a preference for what you want to have for breakfast? When do you have to get to work?”

“One in the afternoon, but I'll be travelling to another location, so I'll have to leave about half an hour before. And no, I don’t have a preference.”

“Sounds good. Wanna eat around here? I can look for a place.” His phone is back in his hand again, a new message notification blinking at him. Taeyong ignores it, opening to a search engine page instead.

“I appreciate that, thank you.”

Taeyong lists off a few breakfast options, all boasting delicious looking food through their previews and less than a ten minute walk away. Johnny listens to them with mild interest and a faraway look in his eyes and, in the end, says that Taeyong can decide because he can’t see what the food looks like anyway.

So Taeyong chooses one, then he tumbles into the shower to get ready. Johnny steers clear from his path, avoiding his gaze altogether.

Taeyong bites his lip, pulling off his pyjama pants and t-shirt before ducking into the shower stall. This happens from time to time, where after an argument, he and Johnny walk eggshells around each other until they talk about it. It used to start with a lot of accusations and hurt feelings. Now, it starts with an apology, then they'll discuss it logically (while trying not to point fingers), set improvement goals and hold each other to their words. They do their best to be more mature, to see the best in one another.

Everyone goes through their own challenges; it's hard to draw the line where the interest of the relationship takes priority over the interest of the self (unless previously discussed).

Relationships are never easy.

Taeyong sighs, drying his hair and getting dressed. Johnny is on his phone, typing furiously with his eyebrows drawn together. Taeyong surmises that it might be work related.

They head out without another word, Taeyong pointing out directions from time to time until they arrive at the vintage style diner. Johnny speaks to the waiter in friendly terms as they get seated, and two piping cups of coffee land in front of them before their seats warm. Taeyong usually asks Johnny about the menu, what’s inside this, what is that made of, but he doesn’t today.

He gives a cursory glance through the words and images, remembering that this is the restaurant that’s known for their fluffy blueberry pancakes, and decides to get that. Johnny chooses the smoked meat hash, and they both let out a soft sigh of relief when the waiter leaves, like they’re shedding the false pretense of politeness.

It’s usually Taeyong who broaches the topic, but this time Johnny opens his mouth first.

“Sorry for what I said yesterday. I was out of line.”

Taeyong’s nails dig into his palms. He meets Johnny’s tentative glance with a small, crooked smile of his own. “Apology accepted. Sorry for taking the jab at you, too.”

Johnny sighs, sagging into the cushioned seat and stares at his coffee. “I… don’t know what came over me. I guess I’m a bit stressed from work, these long hours are getting to me.”

Taeyong makes a soft sound of acknowledgment, but it comes out more dispassionate than he intends, so he clears his throat and tries again. “I understand, it happens.”

“I… don’t really know what to say. I just… I thought things would get easier eventually. I thought that I would earn more, expand my repertoire so that jobs offers would come in regularly. But my progress isn't where I want to be. Job stability even less so. I don’t know if this is going to change with time, or if it’s something I- no, if we will have to get used to.

“Travelling this much used to be a dream, and it’s still very exciting for me, but it doesn’t seem to be that way for you. And I know what I said was unfair. You’re also contributing your part. I shouldn’t have diminished your efforts. I guess… I got impatient and annoyed. I'm sorry.”

Taeyong doesn’t know what to say. A shiver goes down his back as he gingerly cups the hot coffee, staring at the dark liquid.

“Have you talked to anyone about this? Photography forums? This can’t be a singular exception.”

Johnny shakes his head a little, the corners of his lips drawing down. “I’ve reached out to some photographers, but most of them haven’t gotten back to me. The one who did said that comfort came with time, and that being a freelance photographer isn’t easy. It could be rewarding, but took a lot of effort.”

Taeyong shifts uncomfortably, but when no words are forthcoming from either Johnny or him, he sighs and shrugs. “I figured that’d be the case.” He pauses, measuring the next words in his head before he speaks, “I’ve also been thinking to settle in Seoul, and really give teaching a go.”

Johnny nods with a thoughtful frown. “Haven’t you considered this in the past?”

“I have, and it wasn’t my priority back then,” Taeyong admits. “To be honest, it’s been on my mind for a while now, this… lack of improvement, this stagnation. I haven't felt like I've done anything new in the past year. And with all this constant travelling, I feel like I'm losing my identity bit by bit.”

Johnny frowns at the admission, but he doesn't seem surprised.

Taeyong shakes his head and quickly adds, “Not your fault, of course. It’s just a bit different now, when financial stability is more important, and so is building a client base where I’m most comfortable teaching. It also means that I’ll be paying for rent instead of flights and Ubers and hotel rooms, and I’m not sure how that looks, but I think I need to give it a shot.”

He sucks a breath in, wondering the best way to approach the next topic, but Johnny beats him to it.

“It would also mean that we… that this becomes a long distance relationship.”

There’s a question in the sentence, and Taeyong nods, throat feeling dry.

“Is that something you’re seriously considering?”

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while... so yes, I really want to try this out. Plus, we’re from Seoul- well, I am. I don’t want to lose that connection. I want to get up where I fell, then go abroad when I am ready.”

Johnny nods distractedly.

“The class yesterday…”

Taeyong shakes his head. “It’s more about the language barrier. And the experience and confidence to lead a class. Similar to how you feel, I’m not where I want to be.”

Taeyong drifts off into silence, but his eyes are steady as they meet Johnny’s confused gaze.

“Nothing’s decided yet. Maybe the long distance will happen less often if I find jobs that send me to the same place you’ll be going to, or if I build enough of a client base so that planning classes around my travelling schedule is possible.”

Just then, the waiter comes back with two plates of food, Taeyong thanks him in English with a polite nod, as does Johnny, and the two turn back to each other.

With a deep sigh, Taeyong picks up the knife and spreads the ball of butter on his pancakes. “I’m not sure how to do this, to be honest.”

Johnny snaps out of his reverie and pokes at his food too, sniffing it. “Neither am I.”

They finish the rest of their meals in relative silence, pausing only to comment on their food, and sharing bites in between. While this silence isn’t unwelcome, it makes Taeyong think about them, as he’s sure Johnny’s doing the same. What will happen if they try long distance? Will their relationship last?

Consistent with his thoughts from before, he doesn't think he has that confidence- even if Johnny does.

Taeyong takes care of the bill when it arrives, and they make their way to the hotel to get the equipment before Johnny heads off again.

“What are your plans for the rest of the day?” the taller man asks, going through the room to gather his equipment.

Taeyong’s heart thuds in his chest. His phone feels heavier in his pocket, and he unconsciously reaches to carry its weight in his hand instead.

“I might hang out with the receptionist from before- the one we met when we first checked in.”

Johnny blinks back his surprise. “Jae, right? The Korean man.”

“Yeah.”

“Is he showing you around?”

“Maybe. We haven’t made any plans yet, but he actually came to my dance class yesterday. Said he had a day off.”

For the first time that morning, Johnny grins widely. “That’s cool. Does he dance?”

Taeyong shrugs, also smiling a little. “From the looks of it, no. But he said he used to dance.”

“Nice. Wish I could come along,” Johnny comments with a wistful look in his eyes. Then Taeyong sees it, the desire to connect with someone, the fatigue from working long hours, the limited social interactions with people Johnny genuinely likes- all of this is weighing him down, too.

Taeyong shakes his head and reaches for Johnny’s hand, intertwining their fingers. “There’ll be another chance, when you’re less busy,” he consoles.

“I’m starting to think there’s less and less of that,” Johnny grumbles, but he’s smiling back at Taeyong and squeezing the hand in his.

Taeyong doesn’t tell Johnny that he spent all of yesterday with Jaehyun. He doesn’t know how to approach that subject, or if it should be shared at all. Nothing noteworthy happened. He and Jaehyun became better friends, learned more about the city and each other, and Taeyong tried new food. But for some reason, it feels like Taeyong is doing something wrong, like he’s hiding something, and he hates that feeling.

After a pensive pause, Johnny mumbles, “You really miss Seoul, don't you?”

Taeyong nods, shrugging a little. “I didn't expect this. I was surprised too.”

“As you said, it’s your home base. You're probably sick of travelling by now.”

Johnny tries for a small smile (because he understands), but it comes out crooked and all wrong. Taeyong wonders, suddenly, why this sounds so final. He wants to agree with Johnny, wants to play it off lightly, even though it is anything but.

But it seems like Johnny understood him anyway.

“Heading out now,” Johnny announces after a pause. He strides towards the door, and Taeyong watches his back for a moment, before coming up from behind and wrapping his arms around Johnny’s middle.

“Take care.”

Johnny chuckles and twists a bit to swing an arm around Taeyong’s shoulders as well. “You too, have fun with Jae. Take lots of pictures and show me after, kay?”

“Okay,” says Taeyong into the scratchy fabric of Johnny’s jacket.

And Johnny’s gone again.

Taeyong sighs and slumps back onto the bed.

His eyes wander to his phone as he contemplates if he even wants to do something today. This morning’s thoughts creep back to him, but instead of the guilt he felt last night, it puts him at ease. The connection he has with Jaehyun changes nothing. He has no reason not to hang out, he’d already spent a lot on these flights, he might as well make the most out of this brief stay.

He sits up with an air of resolution and checks his phone for the new message. It wasn’t who he’d expected. It was Jisung asking what his travel plans were, if they’d be taking the same flight back to Korea. He quickly replies that he’ll be taking the late afternoon flight from John F. Kennedy airport to Incheon, sharing the flight details in the rest of his text. After that, his attentions fall onto Jaehyun’s contact, and he quickly sends off a message before he changes his mind.

 **Taeyong**  
Still free today?

A reply comes back almost instantly.

 **Jaehyun**  
Was waiting for you to wake up and get ready.

Taeyong snorts.

 **Taeyong**  
See you in 10 at the lobby?

 **Jaehyun**  
Sounds good

Taeyong chooses a warmer outfit today. It’s gotten much colder in the span of a few days, much like one expects from the East coast around this time of the year, and not unlike Seoul. It rained briefly last night, something Taeyong missed since he returned to the hotel at a relatively early time. But the precipitation amount was not as much as expected, which means today will be more humid. There will also be a lot of clouds.

He opts for a well insulated black turtleneck shirt, a thick grey knit sweater, and black jeans. He pulls on a black beanie and boots to complete the look, checks to make sure he has his phone, wallet and hotel keycard, then heads out the door.

 

When he arrives at the lobby, he sees Jaehyun by the front desk where Taeil is working again. They exchange similar greetings as the previous day, then Taeil turns to Taeyong and asks, “Do you know what you want to do today? Any places you want to visit?”

Taeyong shoots him a clueless smile and shrugs. “I heard the botanical garden is worth a visit, but it’s also almost winter, and I don’t think the park would be in full bloom as they are in pictures.”

Taeil nods in understanding. “Probably not the best time of the year to visit a garden. Did you want to do more outdoor sightseeing?”

Taeyong nods firmly. “Yeah, I’ve already been to the Metropolitan Museum of Art two days ago, I think I’ve had enough of museums and galleries. Something outdoor would be nice.”

Taeil perks up. “Oh, you like art?”

Taeyong nods with a wry smile. “I try to appreciate it in as many forms as I can.”

Jaehyun hums, crossing his arms thoughtfully. “What about the Storm King Art Centre?”

Taeil smiles and nods eagerly. “That’s a good idea.”

Taeyong tilts his head. “Where’s that?”

“It’s roughly an hour drive North of here,” Taeil supplies helpfully. “It’s an art exhibition with many outdoor pieces, and smaller indoor galleries. If you like immersive art, I’d highly recommend it. It’s great for a day trip.”

Taeyong meets Jaehyun’s eyes before shrugging a little. “I could look into car rental services.” He takes out his phone to type out the search criteria, but Taeil waves it off.

“Jae is driving, right? You can take my car.”

Taeyong blinks. Is it common for coworkers to share a car in America? Judging by the equal look of surprise on Jaehyun’s face, he’s leaning towards no.

“You really trust me with your old boy?” Jaehyun raises a brow at Taeil, who chuckles at the question.

“I don’t see a problem, you’ve driven it a few times before. Just fill up the gas and we’re even.” He pauses, lowering his tone into something a bit less cheery. “And if you put so much as a scratch on him, you’re paying for the damages.”

Unfazed, Jaehyun smirks and straightens his posture, “Not the ones that were there previous to today, hopefully.”

“Are you offering?” Taeil asks with a challenge to his tone.

“You wish.”

Taeyong rolls his eyes at the lighthearted banter, but it doesn’t stop the fond grin from stretching across his face.

After brief instructions of where to find Taeil’s parked car (since the hotel is too small to have its own parking lot, he routinely parks out on the street), the two make their way to the sky blue Toyota Prius. Taeyong smiles at it, it’s somehow very Taeil.

Taeyong shuffles to the passenger seat while Jaehyun adjusts the seating and mirrors to his height, checking everything before loading his phone on the dock, inputting the art centre’s address and hitting start on the navigation page.

“Seatbelt?”

“Yep!”

“Do you want any snacks for the drive? It is an hour long.”

“I just had breakfast so I’m okay. Are you hungry?”

Jaehyun smiles indulgently and nods. “Might swing by a corner store on the way to pick up some snacks. I had breakfast, but I can still eat some more.”

Taeyong gives Jaehyun’s nonexistent belly an envious side glance. “Ah, okay.”

And they are off.

 

Taeyong doesn’t seem like the type to fall asleep easily in cars, at lease, not without some degree of struggle. Therefore it comes as a surprise when his head bobs a little, having grown disinterested in the passing scenery enough to lull into a light slumber.

Jaehyun has half a heart to take a picture when his head tilts back, jaw hanging a little loose, which should be ugly and embarrassing for anyone, but Taeyong still manages to look good. Life really is unfair.

With a sigh, Jaehyun tucks away the thought and focuses on the road ahead.

 

They arrive at the Storm King Art Centre before 2 pm, and Taeyong all but bounds into the building to purchase their admission tickets before Jaehyun even realizes what he’s doing. He shakes his head stubbornly at Jaehyun's weak, bemused protests, arguing that he had driven them, so Taeyong should get the tickets.

Jaehyun wants to say that it doesn't have to be calculated so neatly, but the words die in his throat at Taeyong's insistence. So he shrugs and accepts the ticket with a grateful _Thank you_ , and they enter the venue.

It's big, and Taeyong makes excited comments around Jaehyun for the first hour as they wander from piece to piece. There aren't many physical boundaries or limitations to each artwork, they exist in a space entirely unto themselves. And in those moments, Taeyong shares how surreal it feels to be here, to experience this in real life.

“It gives a visceral meaning to the term ‘larger than self’,” comments Jaehyun as he walks around the pieces of artwork.

Taeyong asks about the rough translation in Korean, to which Jaehyun is trumped because he also doesn’t know what it is. Multilingual culture is understanding and associating a term with a language, and not knowing what it is in the other.

Taeyong chuckles when he hears this.

“Do you ever mix the two up? What other languages do you speak?”

“English, Korean, and I took a class of Chinese Language and Culture in university, so I knew a bit of it.”

There was a pause with a slight smirk tugging at Jaehyun's lips that Taeyong notices immediately.

“You were totally seeing a Chinese person, weren't you. It's all over your face!” He accuses with a laugh, pointing at Jaehyun's cheeks.

Jaehyun chuckles and swats his hand away. “I will neither confirm nor deny the existence of a significant other whose first language coincided with the course I took. I will, however, comment that picking up a language is much easier when you have a native speaker to practice with.”

The mirth in his eyes makes Taeyong tilt his head and laugh loudly.

“Stop mincing words, who were they? Tell me more!”

“Hm... he was an exchange student from China. We dated briefly before realizing it wouldn't work out. It was the second year of university, I think he'd been experimenting with me.”

Taeyong looks surprised, remembering what the other had said before, about wanting long-lasting relationships.

Jaehyun catches his expression and shakes his head with a wry smile. “It wasn't a bad break, I learned a lot about myself and what I wanted too.”

“Hmm, that’s a good thing,” Taeyong makes a thoughtful sound of acknowledgment. “It’s all a learning process though, isn’t it? People change all the time.”

Jaehyun shoots Taeyong a look of curiosity, who smiles a little and looks down. The grass underneath their shoes is green despite the chilly temperatures, Jaehyun suspects it won’t last for long.

“If there are only two constants in this world, one is gravity, and the other is that people change,” Taeyong shrugs. “I guess this is just one of the many moments.”

Objectively speaking, Jaehyun understands what Taeyong is saying. But what was he referring to, if he was referring to anything at all? Did he mean with what happened yesterday, the day before, or even on the first day they met?

With a puzzled sigh, Jaehyun quickens his footsteps to match Taeyong’s strides to see the next piece of art, which is massive and a good hundred metres away.

As they near it, Jaehyun reads the giant folded pieces of metal, one bigger around a smaller one as a parent and child held in an embrace. Taeyong thought it was two lovers. They tilt their heads this way and that, walking around the piece to take in all the angles (an idea Taeyong came up with) and argued for their own points.

As they move further into the dips of the field, the grass gets muddier, leaving splotches of brown and green on their boots. Taeyong thanks whatever fashion sense he had that compelled him to wear his boots that day. Jaehyun smiles at his antics, but doesn’t tease him about it. He anticipated the weather condition and wore water-repelling Palladium’s to protect his socks from getting wet. Taeyong snorts at the over-preparation. Jaehyun calls it (and by association, himself) smart.

“With how often you boost your ego, I’m surprised you haven't puffed up and away,” Taeyong sneers, trudging through a particularly wet area that reminds him more of a swamp than in the middle of a well-kept garden.

Jaehyun snorts a little breathlessly as he yanks his foot out of the thick mud before placing it one step ahead, into more mud. His other foot follows the pattern.

“Please, you’re just jealous you don’t have the same foresight.” His foot comes loose with a wet _Thoop_ and he grimaces. “Man, this is a whole work out, wanna head back instead?”

Taeyong glances back and realizes they’ve only made it halfway into the swamp in the ten minutes they’ve been struggling through it. Their footsteps from where they started are still visible. But they don’t have to walk back the way they came, the garden made sure the paths to experience all art pieces are relatively easy to follow without repetition.

“Let’s keep going.” He grumbles, opting to sliding through the mud instead, it’s less of a struggle than detaching and reattaching his booted feet in the mud. “We’re almost there, might as well go through with this.”

Jaehyun sniffs, but does as told. They kind of shuffle and slide their way through the mud in an awkward crab walk, and eventually make it to drier land. Taeyong sighs with relief and Jaehyun wipes a whole lot of sweat that makes Taeyong stare in shock and horror.

“How is that much sweat even possible?”

Jaehyun rolls his eyes. “Active sweat glands.”

More beads of sweat form from where he wiped, and they soon trickle down the sides of his face to his neck. Taeyong looks away. “That’s like, not normal.”

“I assure you it’s very normal and not at all a contagious disease, so stop treating me like a leper.”

“I find that very hard to believe.”

Feeling his patience run dry, Jaehyun waves his sweaty hand about. “Do you want me to wipe this on you?”

Taeyong stares at his hand in disgust. “What the hell dude.”

“Exactly. Shut up about it.”

“But seriously, how is that normal?”

And so Taeyong finds himself getting chased by Jaehyun's sweat hand for what feels like a kilometre. There were moments when he thinks he almost outruns Jaehyun, but the latter keeps coming back and closing in on him. Eventually he gives up and stops and catches his breath. Jaehyun doesn't say anything, but the wide, shit-eating grin of a champion makes Taeyong growl anyway.

“You run?”

Jaehyun shrugs nonchalantly, wiping more sweat and flicking droplets at Taeyong's direction. “Helps with stress.”

Taeyong shrieks and dodges the water. Thankfully there aren't too many people around.

“It’s just sweat,” Jaehyun smirks.

“Yeah, and I'm mildly irked by germs and dirty things.”

The smirk on Jaehyun's face widens. “Mysophobia? You?”

“Ah shit.”

Jaehyun doesn't chase after him, but he does wipe his hand on his pants (which Taeyong is mildly grateful for) before they make their way through the rest of the park. The weather gets colder, and soon the sweat dries on Jaehyun's back and forehead. Taeyong eventually forgets about the sweat and germs as he approaches the next piece of art.

In another hour, they make their way to the exit, having had enough of large art pieces, mud, and excessive amounts of sweat. Taeyong tries to shake all the mud off his boots before climbing into the car while shooting wary glances at Jaehyun's hands and pants. Jaehyun laughs at his expression.

“I'll wash them eventually.”

Taeyong looks highly unamused, feeling his skin crawl. Should he disinfect the car before returning it to Taeil? “Your hands, or the pants?”

Jaehyun tips his head back and laughs. “Pants of course. I'll be washing my hands before dinner.”

Taeyong isn’t convinced, but he holds his tongue as Jaehyun pulls out of the parking spot, making a few turns, and driving back the way they came. He still needs a ride back to the city. If he were to tease Jaehyun he'd probably get kicked out of the car.

His eyes inevitably travel back to Jaehyun's hands, tracing the shape with his eyes. They are a little small compared with the rest of him, and Taeyong briefly wonders if his big dick comment has any standing.

“Stop staring at my hands, sweat is not that dirty.”

“Still dirty,” comes the automatic reply. However, Taeyong looks away when he realizes where his thoughts have gone and what he said.

Jaehyun rolls his eyes. “Gees, it's like you've never sweat in your life. How do you dance without sweating?”

“I change right after,” Taeyong says simply.

Ignoring the snide reply, Jaehyun continues, “What are your dinner plans? Is Johnny working late again?”

“Oh, I… think so. He didn't mention about dinner this morning, I’ll ask him now.” Taeyong types into his phone and lets out a soft sigh.

Jaehyun hums a vague reply.

“He didn't get home until after 2 last night and it-” _worries me,_ Taeyong wants to say, but the words are lost in his throat. He hates sounding like this, mothering Johnny instead of supporting him, but it’s also happened in the past. A demanding work schedule like that takes a toll on anyone’s physical and mental state, and he knows Johnny loves (and needs) his rest.

It doesn’t take a genius to hear the concern in his voice. Jaehyun, whose eyes are trained on the road in front of him, would bet that if he looked over he’d see the unease swimming in Taeyong’s intense, expressive eyes.

“Has he talked about work at all?”

“Briefly, only to note the hours and that he’s not required to be on set the whole time, but is paid for it because the producers don’t have their shit together.”

Jaehyun snorts, resting one hand on his lap while the other steers the wheel. “Sounds like a nightmare to work with. Have you ever visited his sets before?”

“I've gone a few times at the beginning of our relationship. But me being there raises eyebrows, so I eventually stopped.”

“Right, this _is_ Seoul we're talking about.”

Taeyong nods. “Johnny doesn’t make an effort to hide it. Behind-the-back talk has never fazed him. And it doesn’t seem to faze you either.”

Jaehyun shrugs, wearing a small smile. “Must be an American thing.”

Taeyong snorts, turning away. “Must be something in your food. School food, maybe?”

Jaehyun chuckles quietly. “Nah, it’s all junk food. Korean schools got it all figured out; the food is nutritious, helps the brain and body develop and stuff.”

Taeyong raises a surprised eyebrow. “Oh yeah, I vaguely remember middle school photos of a rather chubby Johnny.”

There is a slight pause.

Taeyong looks over with curious eyes. “Do you…”

Jaehyun's grip tightens around the steering wheel. “No.”

Unperturbed, Taeyong continues, “...by any chance have middle school pictures handy?”

“Nope,” Jaehyun says more firmly.

“Really.” Taeyong leans a little closer.

Jaehyun ignores the urge to look over to Taeyong. “Nope. Nothing. None whatsoever. Stop looking at me, I'm not falling for that again.”

Taeyong huffs and settles in his seat again. “Boring. I was a chubby teenager and still took a bunch of pictures.” He’s digging through his phone before he finishes his sentence, no doubt looking for proof.

Jaehyun snorts at his enthusiasm. “I’m sure you did,” he drawls.

Taeyong takes a while to respond, too preoccupied with looking for the pictures. Eventually, he promises, “I'll show you later.”

As they lapse into silence, Jaehyun turns on the radio and focuses on the road. Taeyong sighs softly as he replies to a message on his phone.

“Johnny has to work through dinner,” he announces.

Jaehyun chews on his lip, pausing before replying. “Okay.”

Taeyong nods and frowns at his boots. “I guess it doesn’t matter. I’d like to get out of these muddy shoes, maybe wipe them down a bit too.”

“Hmm. Any preference for dinner, or should I decide?”

Taeyong pauses. “Are you free? I don’t want to occupy all of your time off.”

Jaehyun shakes his head. “I don’t have anything else planned for the day.”

Taeyong hums, directing his gaze out the window. “Are there any good Korean restaurants around?”

Jaehyun shoots a side glance in Taeyong’s direction briefly. “There’s a Koreatown south of the hotel, we can either walk or take the subway, depending on the weather. Taeil’s shift ends at 8 pm, so we have to return the car before then.”

“That’s fine, I still have some money on my MetroCard.” Taeyong brushes a thumb along the side if his phone. “We can also invite Taeil too.”

Jaehyun nods. “Sure.”

 

They get back to the hotel with an hour before Taeil’s shift ends, but the older man declines their invitation, saying that he and his girlfriend have already made plans that evening. So Jaehyun and Taeyong go back to their respective rooms, clean up a little (or in Taeyong’s case, takes a shower, cleans his boots, and throws all of his clothes into his laundry bag) before meeting up again for dinner.

Taeyong raises his eyebrows at Jaehyun’s outfit. He has on black shoes and slacks, a white turtleneck, and a long grey coat, the ones that are often worn by long-legged models on billboards and magazines. As he approaches Jaehyun, the man turns to him with a bright smile and he feels a little underdressed in his black vapor max’s, ripped jeans, oversized OVO sweater and a red bomber jacket.

“Took you long enough,” Jaehyun teases.

Taeyong snorts, ignoring how his cheeks turn a little pink. “Let’s go.”

“Red looks really nice on you,” Jaehyun comments with a small smile.

“Thanks.” The light flush grows into full blooms of red, and Taeyong looks away. “What are we having for dinner?”

“Why, hungry?”

“Yeah.”

“You’ll see.”

“Again with the secrets. I still don’t see the point of prolonging this.”

“Just be patient. Think of it as a, uh, pleasant surprise when you get there.”

“Well I already know it’s in Koreatown, so let me just Google this…”

Jaehyun chuckles as Taeyong searches on his phone, but when Taeyong says the name of a restaurant, Jaehyun just shakes his head with a secretive smile, so Taeyong doesn’t know anymore. With a huff of frustration, he puts his phone away and Jaehyun points to the entrance to the subway.

“Ready to try again?”

Taeyong goes through the turnstiles on the first try this time.

They quickly rush on the train going south, and Jaehyun mouths _34th Street_ and Taeyong nods. Despite that it’s the tail end of rush hour and they’re going in the opposite direction of traffic, there are still a lot of people in the car, so they’re squished together like a cozy can of sardines.

The train pulls out of the station and into a steady speed, but the initial lift off of the brakes jostles Jaehyun’s balance, sending him to stumble into Taeyong. Taeyong catches him instinctively, a hand around his waist to steady him before he topples onto the old woman beside them.

“Ah, sorry.” Jaehyun mutters quietly, stabling his balance again.

“It’s okay.” Taeyong replies, voice just as soft.

As the train approaches the next station, more people shuffle towards the doors behind Taeyong, and the two squeeze their way closer into the middle of the train. Space gets a little tighter, and Taeyong sucks in his breath so as not to accidentally touch Jaehyun. He dips his head down and looks at other people instead, then at the neon words that flash across the display board. He gulps and does his best to ignore their proximity.

At the next stop, more people exit the car than those getting on, so there’s more room for Taeyong to move away, and he does so quickly. He shoots a quick glance at Jaehyun, but the other is looking at something on his phone and doesn’t catch the look. With a soft sigh, Taeyong clutches onto himself internally.

This changes nothing.

When the train finally pulls into their stop, Jaehyun nods at Taeyong, who smiles back, and the two make a beeline for the doors. Taeyong catches himself staring at Jaehyun’s hand, and quickly looks away.

The walk to their destination is brisk and short.

Taeyong’s eyes widen as he sees the orange and green sign from down the street. “Soondubu jjigae?”

Jaehyun nods with a wide smile, and immediately, Taeyong’s mouth waters with a sense of familiarity. He can already taste the red pepper flakes in the broth, the sesame oil in the bean sprouts of the side dishes, the scent of _home_ permeating through the air.

“Just what I needed.”

Jaehyun spares one glance in Taeyong’s direction before inclining his head with an indulgent smile. “Good.”

The time from when they’re seated to when their food is served is about 20 minutes, and Taeyong has already made a big dent in the complimentary grilled fish. Jaehyun tries to eat a little less like a starved man, but he too is hungry as he makes his way through the complimentary green onion pancake and side dishes. Between the two of them, food disappears at an alarming rate, and Taeyong asks for seconds before they’re halfway into the main course.

Taeyong slurps through the bubbly, spicy seafood tofu soup as Jaehyun shovels spoons of multigrain rice into his mouth with relish. It doesn’t quite taste like Seoul to Taeyong, nor does it resemble Jaehyun’s mother’s cooking, but it’s enough.

The food disappears at an alarming rate and, because Taeyong was so enthusiastic and happy when ordering, their waiter (a middle-aged Korean woman) gives them a free plate of mandu.

“Service,” she says with a fond smile.

“Thank you, auntie!” Taeyong grins, bowing a little.

“Thank you,” echoes Jaehyun, mimicking Taeyong’s actions.

That too, is devoured quickly.

“You can eat a lot,” Taeyong comments, sipping his water.

“Uh huh.” Jaehyun grins and pets his little pudge of a belly.

Taeyong eyes at him for a moment, then something changes in his expression that Jaehyun catches on immediately.

“Nope.”

“I’m sure you have one or two pictures lying around. You have social media, don’t you? You must’ve posted something back then.”

“You will see nothing.”

“Oh c’mon, here-”

And before Jaehyun has any time to prepare himself, Taeyong throws his phone in his face, a big-eyed, spectacled, chubby-cheeked young Taeyong stares back with a rather dry expression.

Jaehyun hesitantly holds the phone in his hands, zooming in a little to see the man in this boy. Besides the big, intense eyes, there are hardly any other similarities.

“You look nothing like this.” He notes, amused and surprised.

“I shouldn’t, it’s been, like, fifteen years since that picture.” Taeyong laughs, making grabby hands for his phone again, which Jaehyun hands over after another moment of examining the picture closely. “I’ll show you one even earlier than that.”

Taeyong shares funny episodes of when the pictures were taken- his memory crystal sharp, his smile fond, and with a little of a faraway look. Jaehyun bites his lip from smiling widely, enjoying this… whatever this is, so completely.

“And this is me in high school, I was pretty rebellious, had my hair styled every morning despite that not being allowed, I even folded my cuffs up because it was the style back then!”

Jaehyun laughs, and Taeyong grins as well.

In the next breath, Jaehyun reaches for his phone too.

And Taeyong grins a little wider.

“I doubt I can find many others, I was never really fond of social media, but this-” he hands his phone over to Taeyong’s outstretched hands, the phone revealing a much younger, much rounder Jaehyun with his friends in full swimming gear. They were all smiling, it looked like a pool party. “-was taken by my friend, about ten? Twelve? Years ago.”

Taeyong’s face brightens, and he grins at the picture. “You were so cute! What happened?”

“Puberty, because I’m downright sexy now.”

Taeyong’s straight face holds for approximately four seconds before he doubles over in laughter. “You pompous ass.”

Jaehyun snickers too, too amused to react to the name-calling, even if the shoe fits.

When they get the bill, Jaehyun tries to pay for it (since Taeyong bought the tickets to the art centre) but Taeyong insists to split it instead. The waiter comes by with a card machine and compliments on Taeyong’s Korean, who laughs softly, saying that he’s from Seoul and in New York for personal travel.

When they leave the restaurant, Taeyong asks if they can walk around a bit before going back. He’s overestimated how much food he ate and he’s feeling like a ball. Jaehyun nods and tilts his head left, heading towards Park Avenue. Before they get there, Taeyong sees a stationery store and stops Jaehyun. He goes in, finds something, and comes back out within five minutes.

Curious, Jaehyun squints his eyes at the bag he’s holding on and asks, “Is that paper?”

Taeyong tucks the bag behind him. “Yeah, something like that.”

The ambiguity makes Jaehyun narrow his eyes. “What for?”

Taeyong avoids his gaze. “For writing.”

“Writing what?”

“Uh. Things. Hey, what’s that?”

And before Jaehyun asks anything else, Taeyong trots over to the subway station. The wrong subway station.

Jaehyun runs after him, hooking a hand around Taeyong’s arm and stopping him from going down the stairs. “Not the station we came from. Ours is this way.”

Surprised, Taeyong pulls back too much and almost trips on his foot, but Jaehyun’s hand on his arm prevents him from falling. Jaehyun’s eyes widen and he lets go as soon as Taeyong’s steadied.

Taeyong laughs, scratching his head sheepishly. “A-ah. Sorry. They all look the same to me.”

Jaehyun looks away, nodding his head to another direction. “We’d be going this way. And I thought you wanted to walk a bit more.”

“Oh yeah, true.”

Jaehyun hums, looking at something on his phone as Taeyong peers on the screen.

“Christmas market?”

Jaehyun nods, pocketing his phone again. “I remembered there being one during this time of the year last year. Let’s go.”

There is one not even ten minutes away at the Bryant Park, and Taeyong oh’s and ah’s at the various trinkets and snacks personally made by vendors themselves. He asks the vendors what a lot of them are, from lavender milk bath bombs, to strawberry rhubarb pies, to wooden spoons as musical instruments. He soaks it all up, face lighting up to have learned something new. Jaehyun smiles at this and follows the excited man around.

When Taeyong rounds back to Jaehyun, he announces, “I want ice cream.”

Jaehyun hums thoughtfully, glancing at the various vendors. “It’s a Christmas market, they probably don’t have ice cream here.”

Taeyong frowns and looks at the shops encased in glass and green metal beams. “Impossible.”

Jaehyun shakes his head. “Want to try mulled wine? That’s probably something you can’t find in Korea.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s something really delicious.”

They enter a wooden cabin in the middle of the market and are greeted by the smell of burgers, fries and something cinnamon-y sweet.

“Wait here,” says Jaehyun and he pushes through the crowd.

 

Half an hour later, Jaehyun laughs loudly as he stumbles into the subway with an equally giggly (and pink) Taeyong in tow. Jaehyun had a cup of mulled wine and shared (read: drank most of) the spiked apple cider. It does nothing but make him feel looser, happier. Taeyong, on the other hand, had a sip of the apple cider and blinked back tears as the rum burned his throat all the way down. He stuck with his mulled wine, and Jaehyun decided not to tell him that there was probably as much alcohol in there (because of the brandy), its sweetness hiding its potency.

Which is why Taeyong is all smiles and pink, so pink it makes Jaehyun a little concerned.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jaehyun asks with a small, hesitant smile.

Taeyong nods. “Yeah, I’ve definitely. Definitely drank more than this. This is nothing compared with soju!”

Jaehyun raises another eyebrow, but doesn’t comment.

All of the seats are taken, so Taeyong stands somewhere in the middle of the train, while Jaehyun leans against the wall near the front.

He catches Taeyong’s eye staring pointedly at his hand. It’s not the first time today. He coughs uncomfortably and shifts his weight. “Soju is pretty vile though, so I’m not sure if that’s even a fair comparison.”

Taeyong’s glazed eyes refocus a little and he tips his head back to laugh. “You’re insulting the national drink in front of a purebred Korean, do you know how dangerous that is?”

Jaehyun smirks. “Seeing as how you can hardly stand straight, I’m sure I have the upper hand right now.”

Taeyong narrows his eyes and walks closer. “I’m stronger than I look.”

Jaehyun hums, unaffected. “I’m sure you are. You probably also don’t know when we need to get off. Spare my life and I’ll get you home safe.”

Taeyong sneers, “Tch. Know it all. I’ve told you, stop doing that.”

Jaehyun shakes his head. There’s no response that won’t get them into trouble at this point.

He dutifully sends Taeyong up the elevator when they get back to the hotel. Taeyong isn’t the type to fight, not after the initial indignant reply that _no, he’s not drunk_. But there’s a flash of hurt from the corner of Taeyong’s eyes that makes Jaehyun pull back. Just a bit. They’re in front of his room now.

“You have your key, right?” Jaehyun asks, to make sure.

Taeyong nods, shooting him a wobbly smile. “I do.”

“Then I’ll see you off here.”

Taeyong pauses, like he wants to say something.

There’s something Jaehyun also wants to say, but he holds back.

Taeyong ducks his head, biting his lips to stop from crying. His shoulders shake with effort. When he looks up again, he smiles a little. It’s crooked and all wrong and Jaehyun feels a rush of emotions at once. He isn’t in the position to do something, but he wishes that for once, he wasn’t working at the hotel, that he and Taeyong were closer so he could hug and comfort him-

“You saw.”

After a long pause, Jaehyun nods. “You knew.”

“He uses a very distinctive cologne. It’s hard to miss, even after all these years.”

Feeling helpless, Jaehyun looks away. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I-” Taeyong inhales sharply, steadying himself in more ways than one. “I’ll be okay.”

A long pause hangs between them, where Taeyong's soft, shuddering breaths are all Jaehyun hears. His own hands curl to fists, angry and frustrated that he can't do anything. They've hugged before, but that feels too intimate now, when they're faced with this revelation. How did Taeyong know and still go about his day pretending that he doesn't?

How is any of this fair?

Jaehyun reaches for Taeyong’s shoulder, pressing down in a comforting, steady grip. “Call me if you need anything.”

Taeyong nods, blinking back tears. Without a word, he taps his room card on the sensor and pushes the door handle down.

“Jae?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for today.”

The door closes softly between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've tweeted about this, but as a writer, I know that my words aren't precious. I'm rough (with how I use my words), noncommittal (with my ideas, giving up 1000 words into a plot because it didn't fit), and dishonest (my stories are often idealized, dramatized, and unrealistic). I'm not trying to frame the perfect scene, I'm trying to get the idea out of my head by any means. Refining and perfecting comes in the form of editing, which is why I am so thankful for [wendy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImJaebabie), because she shaped this mess to something ingestible. Please accept my love.
> 
> Equally important are to all those who commented, your words, your thoughts, the emotions you share... it's what keeps me writing. Thank you.
> 
> Hold tight, there's one more chapter to this, and it's going to hurt.


	5. interlude

Jaehyun walks down the stairs with a heavy heart. This way, he won't pass by the front desk. It's only when he taps his room card, sheds his clothes and lays in bed that he permits himself to think.

He'd recognized the shock of red hair the moment he caught sight of it in the community centre. He was always good with faces, even better with names; it came with the job. It took a second before he put the two together, watching the way Ten participated in Taeyong's class with an air of confusion. He grew even more confused when Ten hung back to chat with Taeyong, like they're old friends.

Turned out they were old friends, or ‘dance buddies’ as Taeyong called it, which made the situation even more perplexing (and infuriating).

Jaehyun never asked, never gave away that he knew, but he wanted to. As an employee of the hotel, he was told to not be involved with this kind of situation, especially when cheating was such a common occurrence. And if it wasn't cheating, if the partners were swingers, in an open relationship, or something else, that gave even less reason to report it. So he kept his head down, did his job, and avoided the drama.

But with Taeyong, there was a moment when they were driving back from the Storm King Art Centre where Jaehyun felt compelled to say something.

For one, it didn't sound like he and Johnny were in an open relationship. Second, Taeyong was in love with Johnny. It spelled out how his eyes would soften when watching the taller man, how his body would turn towards the man when Johnny stepped in the room. It was like he couldn't help himself. He was drawn in a way that was uncommon and desperate, a way that was probably not healthy. He should know. He deserved to know.

But when Taeyong spoke of commitment, Jaehyun read his eyes as he thought back to Johnny. There was a crack, a flash that ripped his internal struggle wide open. In that moment, Jaehyun saw denial, not the kind that screamed for help, but the kind to slowly manifest with self-blame and toxicity. Jaehyun couldn’t look away even if he tried.

Tonight only confirmed his suspicions.

Taeyong had known, even before he'd seen the evidence that Jaehyun saw, that Johnny was cheating on him.

In fact, he’d known for so long that he built a wall around his heart from being hurt. But still he clung on. For what? Did he think that being in love with the person mattered more than how he was being treated, being kept in the dark of the truth that could and would tear the relationship apart?

He had known, yet he still clung on.

Jaehyun lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

Taeyong feared change.

With a frustrated sigh, Jaehyun turns to his side and scowls in the dark.

The last two days was a guise, a facade Taeyong entertained while Johnny went to see Ten in the evenings.

Jaehyun had doubts from the very beginning. No photographer worked that late into the evening, there was always a way to escape, especially if they were male.

Then Jaehyun came to this question: what gave Johnny the reason, the motivation to cheat on Taeyong in the first place?

The scum of a man. Taeyong can do better.

Simple communication would've prevented this internal turmoil that Taeyong experienced- continues to experience, convinced that he is less desirable than someone else. All Johnny had to say was that he didn’t want to be with Taeyong anymore. Or that he wanted to be with someone else MORE than he wanted to be with Taeyong. It would’ve been selfish, it would've hurt, but it would’ve been truthful.

So… Johnny must either be scared of the consequences (losing a partner, which is by no means a small matter), scared of admitting wrongdoing, or maybe he's got something else going with Ten, even before Taeyong. Or, worst case scenario, he intended to hurt where it hurt most. But Jaehyun doubted that. Taeyong wouldn't like someone so bad for him, would he?

His fists curl in anger.

But it’s not like it matters. Justifying his actions does not make it right, nor does it make it any easier to deal with the aftermath. Johnny is Johnny, Taeyong is Taeyong.

Another question comes to mind:

If Taeyong had known for a while, why did he only react to it so strongly this evening? Did something happen last night?

Jaehyun frowns, wondering if he should check the security cameras for proof, something to be angry over. Something to make it justifiable for him to land a punch on Johnny’s face, who is a stranger by all accounts, but would make him feel better for exacting revenge of some kind-

Jaehyun turns back to his phone. No new messages.

He huffs with irritation.

He wants to reach out to Taeyong, but it's not his business. It would be nice to hear from the man just to make sure he's doing okay, but somehow he knows Taeyong won't call him. This prediction frustrates him to no end.

Sleep won’t come easy, and after some consideration, he decides to treat himself to a drink upstairs. Andre, the bartender, would be more than happy to have some company. Sunday nights are usually pretty slow.

•••

As soon as the door closes behind Taeyong, he falls on his side against the wall, sliding down like the energy is drained out of him with the flip of a switch.

How fucking tiring. How fucking exhausting it is to pretend that everything's okay, even though he’s been told this would happen to everyone who dated Johnny after Ten. He should've listened to those words, should've thought himself no better than others, and Johnny no better than who he used to be.

A few years ago, when he and Johnny first became an official couple, they were out for drinks with Johnny’s friends when a man named Yuta pulled Taeyong to the side. “If they’re in the same city, you can bet that they’ll somehow find a way to each other,” Yuta says with blunt eyes, lips drawing into a tight line.

Taeyong snorted, taking a sip of his spiced negroni. “I find that very hard to believe. I’ve danced with Ten since we were fifteen. They’ve been broken up for two years now, and Ten’s moved to a different country. No kind of romance lasts that long.”

Yuta blinks at Taeyong like wondering if he’s purposely being daft. “First loves do. Undying loves do. They’ve (excuse the pun) danced around the topic, neither willing to sacrifice their career to be with each other, especially if it meant long distance. But it ends up happening, every single time.”

Taeyong is unconvinced. “Even when Johnny was seeing other people?”

Yuta wrinkles his nose in distaste. “Even when they were both seeing other people. As far as I know, Johnny’s never had a long, serious relationship since Ten.”

Taeyong sits in stunned silence for a while, then shakes his head adamantly. “It’s different though. It’s been two years since. Johnny's told me that he loved me. He wouldn’t lie.”

Yuta shoots Taeyong a dark, measured look before shrugging. “Look, you can believe what you want. I’m hoping for you that I’m wrong, that Johnny’s a changed man, but it takes more than that to change someone.”

Feeling an anger bubbling inside, Taeyong narrows his eyes. “Then why haven’t you ever talked to Johnny about this? Why are you bringing it up with me?”

Yuta shrugs. “Trust me, I have. He used to make it sound like he’s got it under control, but it hasn’t gotten better. I don’t know if it’s worth it to talk to him about this anymore. I didn’t even want to show up today if it wasn’t for the fact that I felt responsible to warn you about the relationship you’re about to get into.”

“‘About’? We’ve been dating for three weeks now!”

“And still in the honeymoon stage. You have an easy out-”

Taeyong stands to his feet, wearing a frigid expression. “That’s enough. I’m glad you took your time to warn me about this, but I can step out of a relationship if I’ve been wronged. I’m not going to sit here listening to you berate the person I chose to be with when there is no evidence for the former. Bye.”

And that had been that.

It was a year later when it happened for the first time.

Taeyong knew about Johnny’s work schedules, how demanding they could be, but they usually didn’t run past midnight latest (some photoshoots required late night ambiance, which sounded like bullshit to Taeyong, but who was he to criticize art direction?). But that night, Johnny returned to their apartment at 4 in the morning, tasting like alcohol and smelling like the cologne that wasn’t his.

Taeyong knew that scent. Knew it so personally.

It was rare, Ten boasted that he took forever to find one he liked back in the day. Something about not irritating his skin and oxidizing well with his pheromones.

Taeyong tried to convince himself that it was just a coincidence. Johnny had gone out for drinks with friends, friends that included Ten. It wasn't suspicious, nor should it be.

Two days later, Johnny smelled like Ten again.

That morning, Taeyong ran up and down Han River, ran without a cell phone or wallet, ran for hours until his legs gave. He’d torn a hamstring a year back from dance, and the ache renewed with vigor and followed him for weeks after that day. It was no surprise when Ten showed up at his dance studio afterwards, nor in the evening, when Taeyong and Johnny met up with some dance friends for drinks. Ten had the gall to show up and properly meet Taeyong and Johnny as a couple, smiling like he hadn’t done anything.

And Johnny. Taeyong wanted to bring it up with Johnny. He was so enraged and felt so betrayed. They worked hard to build this relationship, worked through their differences, compromised and grew closer and fell into a different, deeper kind of love. How could he throw it all aside?

Taeyong was by no means perfect, but he tried hard to be the best of himself for this relationship, for Johnny. Johnny was Johnny. He was so kind and patient, he respected Taeyong even though they had opposing views, being with him was a breath of fresh air.

And though Taeyong was shy to admit it, the physical aspects were some of the best parts.

Growing up in such a close-minded society, Taeyong only had one other boyfriend. When they had sex, it was always quick and straightforward, almost like they were afraid they would get caught, like the very act was illegal and would have consequences. But Johnny didn’t grow up with those prejudices. When he and Johnny had sex, it was slow, deliberate, and sensual. He hadn’t realized sex without oppression could feel so good.

Besides the sex, the way Johnny made Taeyong feel was new. The way he cradled his body after long hours of dancing, pressing soft kisses down his spine and working deft thumbs into his sore muscles, rubbing slow circles until the knots came undone... it melted him. Johnny didn't stop until Taeyong laid like a puddle on their bed, too formless to move.

When Taeyong returned the favour, Johnny would groan and make loud, embarrassing sounds that had Taeyong flushing brightly, and he'd smack Johnny’s naked butt in warning. Their neighbours would complain again. Johnny laughed and switched their positions so he’d be spooning Taeyong again, pulling him in close, softly kissing his nape and shoulder until they both fall asleep.

That familiarity, that comfort… Taeyong didn’t want to lose that.

Ten…

He'd be lying to himself if he said he didn't see the way Johnny looked at Ten and vice versa when they were still together. They belonged, naturally and effortlessly, in ways Taeyong worked hard to achieve with Johnny. They felt like old familiars, like equals.

But they’ve broken up now.

It only happened twice, then Ten went back to New York. Then everything returned to normal again.

And so, because Taeyong wanted too much for this relationship to work, because they were living together, and breaking up and moving out would be a lot of trouble, and because Taeyong feared what he would be if Johnny had left him, he decided to turn a blind eye.

The wound scarred over. It grew thin and turned white along the seam where it mended back together slowly, painfully, imperfect. But it was okay, Taeyong told himself. He would make Johnny love him even more and next time Johnny wouldn't choose Ten.

It was this urgency that drove Taeyong to follow Johnny overseas to his random jobs, to give up on the stability as a full time dance instructor to freelance instead.

And for two years, it worked out.

But when Johnny received a job in New York, and Ten personally invited Taeyong to teach a class at around the same time, Taeyong knew it would happen again. Knew so surely that it ate at his stomach and heart. He barely slept a wink the nights before (let alone the flight to). His anxiety got worse.

He tried to enjoy the city, really, genuinely tried, but he couldn't. Every spare moment his imagination would come up with hypothetical scenarios. Maybe they happened, maybe they didn’t. Taeyong wasn’t the type to demand to know where his boyfriend was at all times of the day. So all he could do was get anxious, overthink and worry too much.

And he was right.

(He hated being right, absolutely hated it, especially in this scenario.)

It happened on their second evening in NYC. Not even forty eight hours, and Taeyong caught a very faint scent of Ten’s cologne and wanted to- he wanted-

He tried his best to act like he didn’t know, but when he made the comment that Johnny shouldn’t be working so late, and Johnny replied by saying that they were creatives and it was only natural that they poured their lives over their work to hustle for the money-

That set Taeyong off. He wanted to call Johnny out for cheating, even though he didn't have proof. He wanted to break it all off. Because he worked hard, he thought they had a future, but Johnny definitely didn’t.

(In retrospect, Jaehyun was working that evening, so he might’ve seen something.)

Still, he waited.

For one more day he waited. He waited to see of Johnny would come clean, or if he would go on pretending it didn’t happen. He waited to see if Johnny would do it again.

And yesterday was all that he needed. Johnny apologized, but he didn’t come clean. He didn’t care about honesty, about communication. He didn't care about this relationship. He didn't care about Taeyong.

Taeyong tried to hold it together the whole day, tried to enjoy the time spent with Jaehyun, exploring the city and seeing and trying new things. But at the end of the day, he was back in his hotel room, surrounded by Johnny’s belongings infused with his clean scent, wishing he’d never fallen in love like this.

He told Yuta, three years ago, that he’d be able to walk away from a relationship that wronged him.

He’ll do it tonight.


	6. 06

When the sun rises, spilling rays of yellow and white into the hotel room, Taeyong crawls into the bathroom, washes his face, and goes for one last morning jog in New York City.

“It’s sunny and cold outside,” Taeil comments as Taeyong passes by the front desk.

Taeyong smiles a little and pulls his sweater closer around him. “I warm up quick. Thanks for the heads up.”

The path he takes leads down the windy but scenic Riverside Park, looping around one of many ferry and cruise terminals, before going across through the outskirt jogging paths in Central Park and back to the hotel. He wants to bring as much of the beauty of New York back with him, memorizing the sights and smells, the wind that tousles his hair, and the cement under his feet as he puts one foot in front of the other.

He doesn’t know how long he’s gone for, but when he comes back, Jaehyun is with Taeil at the front desk, both of them discussing about something in a low voice. Jaehyun isn’t wearing his standard uniform.

“Hey,” he calls out in greeting.

“Welcome back,” Taeil says immediately, flashing a bright smile.

Jaehyun takes a second before he too smiles softly. “How was your jog?”

“Good,” Taeyong replies, leaning against the front desk. “Do you know any good coffee shops nearby? I need my caffeine fix.”

Taeil hums and looks to Jaehyun for help, who shrugs kind of awkwardly, and points to a flight of stairs that leads to the restaurant on the third floor. Taeyong remembers that the bride might’ve tripped on the very stairs, and bites his bottom lip from smirking. “As a member of this hotel, I’d recommend the restaurant on the third floor for some of the finest coffee you will find in New York.”

Jaehyun’s grin is lazy despite the biased suggestion, his tone too nonchalant, but Taeil doesn’t notice. Taeyong, for one, is thankful for this sense of patterned normalcy and flashes an exasperated smile his way.

“Not this again. Is the coffee really that good?”

Taeil nods. “Our regular drip is dark and strong. We also have decaf. Are you not a fan of breakfast foods?”

Taeyong shakes his head. “I am, but I think I’ve eaten too much the last couple days, my stomach is doing strange things.”

Taeil makes a sound of sympathy. Just then, a few patrons arrive and Taeil quickly greets them, and moving to the computer on the side. Taeyong shuffles out of the way and waves a quick thanks before heading to the elevator. Jaehyun stares at his back for a moment longer before leaving Taeil to take care of the front desk.

  
After a quick shower where Taeyong thoroughly scrubs all the grime and dirt off, he heads into the restaurant. It is situated on the other side of the building and looks bright and open, with rays of gold streaming through the long, narrow windows. A waiter shows him to a table, and he orders a cup of coffee and stares out the window.

The group of pigeons on the window sill have huddled into a pile, ducking their heads and sharing their warmth in the face of a strong, chilly autumn breeze.

Minutes later (or was it longer?), two cups of coffee settles before Taeyong, and a figure sits in front of him.

“Hey,” comes the voice he’s grown familiar to, and dare he say, very fond of.

He turns to watch Jaehyun watching him, and his lips curl into a small smile. “Hey.”

The smile worries Jaehyun, it’s like he can see through the guise. Maybe he does. “How are you?” Jaehyun asks, tired eyes searching.

“I’m okay, I think.”

Taeyong blows the steam from his coffee, then empties a packet of brown sugar and two packets of cream before stirring the mixture. He doesn't meet Jaehyun’s eyes.

“...when is your flight?”

“Around two in the afternoon. I should probably get going around or before noon?”

Jaehyun nods, looking a little lost. They sit in silence for a little longer, each in their thoughts.

Then, just as Jaehyun decides that he should leave, Taeyong slides a letter across the table. “I wasn’t sure that I’d see you here, but I’m glad you came looking for me. This is for you.”

Jaehyun picks up the envelope with careful fingers. “It’s... pink.”

Taeyong raises an eyebrow. “Very observant.”

A flash of something goes across Jaehyun’s eyes. “This better not be a love letter,” he teases, his humour not quite convincing.

“Just don’t read it in front of me,” Taeyong replies lightly, lips curling into a wry grin. “I also put the MetroCard in there. There are maybe two trips left. I don’t think I’ll be back in New York before it expires.”

Jaehyun hums quietly, tracing the edge with his fingertip. “Thanks, I’ll read it later.”

There is a pause, where Taeyong takes a sip of the coffee and Jaehyun looks out the window wearing a small frown on his face.

“This is really good. Where are the beans from?”

Jaehyun glances towards Taeyong again. “Jamaican Blue Mountain. I got them from a roastery in Hell's Kitchen.”

“Do you choose the coffee beans yourself? It doesn’t seem like something a hotel manager would do.”

Jaehyun shrugs and wears a crooked smile. “As it were, I have a palette that most people can relate to, so everything on the menu is passed by me to leave a nice impression and have people coming back.”

Taeyong chuckles quietly, taking a bigger sip. “That good, huh? Wonder if I’ll be coming back again.”

Jaehyun hums thoughtfully. “It would be nice to see you again.”

“It would be.” Taeyong takes a deep breath, then their eyes meet. “But you might need to come to Seoul next time. Flights aren’t cheap.”

Jaehyun chuckles. “I’ll see what I can do. Maybe you can show me around for a change, see how difficult it can be to plan a date.”

Taeyong doesn’t correct Jaehyun. “I wrote this in the letter, but I’m really grateful you spent your days off to show me around. It was a lot of fun.”

Jaehyun grins widely at this. “I had fun too, especially the dance class. I was worried that the itinerary might be a bit aggressive that day, you looked lost half the time.”

Taeyong chuckles. “I’d probably be lost if it weren't for you.”

Jaehyun laughs too, eyes curling to crescents. “You get the hang of it once you live here a while.”

“Yeah, probably.”

They let the lull of silence drag for a bit, then finally:

“He never came back last night, which might be a good thing in retrospect, because I’m pretty sure our neighbours would’ve complained about the yelling, then you would've had to deal with it.” Taeyong says lightly, betraying nothing of the dullness and fatigue in his eyes.

Jaehyun doesn’t know what to say.

Taeyong sighs quietly. “I'm not sure what to do now. The anger is gone, and I'm so tired. I just want this to be over and done with so I can start from square one again. I don't… I don't want to wait for rock bottom to hit me. I want to just… go.”

After a long pause, Jaehyun quietly says, “It isn't easy, but you'll need this to end before you can back off from the bottom. Sort of like...”

“Like closure?”

“Yeah, like closure.”

“I guess. I just. I don't think I want to see him. I feel like I would struggle between punching or yelling at his face.”

“Por que no los dos?”

“I'm sorry?”

Jaehyun smiles apologetically and tries again. “Sorry, it's a Spanish saying. Why not both?”

One corner of Taeyong's lip quirks up. “And be that crazy, gay Korean man making a scene at the airport? I'd rather be detained for something actually worthwhile.”

“Please, most people wouldn’t assume that you were gay from first glance.”

Taeyong raises an eyebrow like saying, Have you taken a look at us? Johnny and I?

Jaehyun shakes his head with a short, amused huff.

Taeyong cracks a smile. “You're saying that that wasn't the first thing that came to your mind when we first checked in the hotel?”

Jaehyun smiles into the lip of his coffee mug. “I'll admit, you both looked really good.”

“Nothing more?”

Jaehyun shrugs a vague reply. Taeyong snorts and takes another sip. He can probably guess his thoughts.

Instead, Jaehyun says: “You haven’t checked in your flight yet, right? Choose a different seat.”

Taeyong understands what Jaehyun means. His fingers twitch on his lap as he contemplates the idea.

Jaehyun looks disturbed. “Don't tell me you're having second thoughts.”

Taeyong shakes his head once. “I'm not. I'll do it when I go back to my room.”

Then, Jaehyun sees his dilemma. Johnny might be in the room when he goes back, it would be a hard enough conversation. Checking in to different seats might make it more difficult, emotionally. “I can help you at the front desk, there are public computers…”

Taeyong scrunches his face like he's personally insulted. “Don't be stupid, I'm not some damsel in distress. I can take care of myself.”

Jaehyun looks unconvinced. “Will you really though? You look like hell ran you over in an eighteen wheeler, only to back up, then run you over again.”

Taeyong gives his best deadpan. “Thanks. So nice to know I can count on you for the best compliments.”

Jaehyun shrugs. “Just saying. You had a rough night. Did you even sleep?”

“I… No. It's not that obvious, is it?”

“Ah… a bit.”

“Where?”

“Your eyes are still a little puffy.”

Feeling self conscious, Taeyong leans back and crosses his arms. “What about you? Don't you have to work today?”

Jaehyun nods, shifting in his seat. “I start in the afternoon.”

“Late night shift?”

“Yep.”

“Hm.”

Jaehyun eyes at the envelope in his hands, handling the papers like it holds all of the secrets to the world. He chews on his lip. “Can I ask a question?”

Taeyong meets Jaehyun's measured look and shifts in his seat. “Depends on what it is.”

“What do you plan to do when you go back?”

“Personal life-wise? Or work-wise?”

“Either? Both.”

Taeyong blinks. “That's a lot to be asking from someone who's going through a heartbreak.”

“Would you rather we hug and talk it out instead?”

“...no.”

Jaehyun glances at him. Taeyong stares back with a wary expression.

“You know what, maybe you're right, maybe I should.” Jaehyun begins to stand, one hand holding Taeyong's hands down on the table while he clambers to his feet. Meanwhile, Taeyong flails kind of urgently, his eyes glaring at Jaehyun for one hot second like he's out of his mind. They fumble around for a bit like this, Jaehyun trying to pull onto Taeyong's lap and Taeyong really not having this bullshit. To Jaehyun's surprise, Taeyong is very strong. Maybe even stronger than himself.

With a final shove, Taeyong throws Jaehyun off, who falls back on his seat, the chair scratching the carpeted floor as he lands, his shoulders shaking with effort to not laugh out loud.

“You're insane,” Taeyong exclaims in shock, pushing his chair back like he's trying to put as much distance between them as possible.

“And you're, what, allergic to people who care about you?”

Taeyong bristles at the accusation. “I am not, you're just- I.”

He runs out of words anyway, sputtering as he struggles to collect his thoughts.

“What are you trying to do?”

Jaehyun pauses, smiling a little. “I offered to be your sounding board last night- even though you never called-, I'm trying to cheer you up right now, and for two days, I brought you around a foreign city. What do you think I'm trying to do?”

The honesty in Jaehyun’s eyes makes Taeyong blush light pink. “Don't you think this is kinda early for me to consider anything right now?”

“You're leaving today. What if I don't get a chance to see you again?”

Taeyong takes a breath. And then another.

“Then come see me in Seoul.”

After a beat, Jaehyun nods with an air of finality. He sticks his pinky finger out, and Taeyong stares at it before glancing back at Jaehyun's eyes like wondering if he’s for real.

“Promise to bring me around. Promise, and I will.” The sparkles of support in his eyes are distracting. Trusting. But for some reason, Taeyong can’t look away, nor does he stop himself from reaching across the table to hook their pinkies together.

What ends up coming out of his mouth is this: “This is stupid.”

Jaehyun laughs, letting go. “Thought it was something culturally appropriate, this pinky thing. Learned it from my parents.”

Taeyong shakes his head. “It'd be appropriate if we were children maybe. Why don’t you just admit that you want to touch me, at least it would’ve been more honest.”

“I would've been lying then.”

A silence filled with apprehension follows, while Taeyong waits for the other shoe to drop.

“Not that I don't want to,” Jaehyun smirks, throwing in a wink. “But that wasn't my intention.”

Instead of the expected response of embarrassed sputtering, Taeyong snorts. “I don't know what my plans are. I'll probably get in touch with my friends and figure something out for work. I've been offered a job with them before, maybe they still have an opening.”

“Are those friends also dancers?”

“Most are, but others were brought in for their business background. Takes all kinds to run a dance studio after all.”

“I bet.”

“And relationship-wise, I… don't know what I should do.”

Jaehyun glances at him. “You've moved in with Johnny, haven't you?”

“I… yeah. That might be a problem.” Taeyong shakes his head, quickly correcting himself. “No, not a problem, just something I need to deal with. Looking for a new place isn't easy. It's not as expensive as Manhattan, but the lease terms are ridiculous.”

Jaehyun hums empathetically. “I've heard. Something about paying a large deposit upfront before you even start renting, right?”

Taeyong nods a little dejectedly. “It's called key money. I don't get how they expect young people to survive without selling a kidney.”

“What about living with your friends?”

“I've considered that, but they've all doubled up to room as many people under one roof as the spaces allow. I’ll have to ask around, but it wouldn't be a permanent solution.”

Jaehyun looks Taeyong up and down, and Taeyong almost sees the gears in his brain clicking into place. “If Korean dramas have taught me anything, it is that if you're young and handsome, things will always go your way. Go be a rooftop prince.”

The deadpan expression that follows is almost hilarious. “You really think that I can be an actor?”

“No, you probably can't act to save your life. But you look the part, which is all you need to make an appearance on national television. People have done it for less.”

“...fair point.”

They both share a quiet chuckle, then Jaehyun checks the time, an action that makes Taeyong flinch and look away discreetly.

“You should go pack now.”

Taeyong frowns suspiciously. “How do you know I haven't packed?”

“Have you?”

“...no.”

“Then let's go. Pack and check in.”

A quiet loneliness settles into Taeyong's bones.

“...come with me.”

Jaehyun looks confused. “To Korea?”

“To the airport,” corrects Taeyong. He looks embarrassed for even suggesting it, but he waits for Jaehyun to reply. It's dangerous and unfair, and he knows that this can wear Jaehyun down, but he needs this.

Jaehyun seems to recognize it too, because he doesn't sigh, doesn't even look confused. His eyes soften as he looks into Taeyong's eyes. “I have work you know.”

“You said you start in the afternoon.” Taeyong says, chewing his lip. His voice doesn't even sound like him.

The crack deepens.

Jaehyun shakes his head sadly, firmly. “I can't go with you.”

Taeyong sucks in a shallow breath. As much as his stomach plummets, his heart lightens as well. It had to be this way. This is the first step.

“I'm the worst, aren't I?”

“A little,” admits Jaehyun, looking away. “But not in that way. You just need time to not be so bad.”

Taeyong sniffs. “I'm not sure anymore. How will I know I'll be okay again? What if I can't?”

“You will. It's tough, but you will.”

“Like the English expression, ‘leap of faith’ right?”

“That's the one.”

Taeyong shakes his feet, feeling restless. His clasped hands grow cold with sweat and he bites his lip. He should go. They share another minute of silence, then Taeyong wordlessly finishes the rest of his coffee, and Jaehyun does the same. They make to stand, and Jaehyun walks with Taeyong to the entrance.

This is it.

When they meet eyes, Jaehyun flashes him soft, tender smile, and Taeyong stills.

All of a sudden his heart feels like it’s punched in, like he's bleeding out all over again, and his breath stutters in pieces. Jaehyun looks up in surprise, only to catch him quickly turning away. The air fills with shallow, shaky breaths.

_No. No, no, no. **No.** Why is this happening again? He had it under control- it should be okay again-_

But the thin veil that hides his internal thoughts chooses that moment to tear apart, bursting at the scar and spilling out years of pent up thoughts and feelings. What’s worse is that Jaehyun’s witnessing this. He shouldn’t be dragged into this, it’s not his responsibility, and yet he’s here watching him lose control and break down in public. In public, for crying out loud-

He feels Jaehyun's gaze slide off him, flushing pink from… embarrassment? That must be it. No one wants to be seen with someone who is crying, especially not in public. Not that he’s crying, but it’s a close thing.

_No, Jaehyun is not like that. He understands Taeyong-_

Taeyong's breath catches as he feels another pang of anger mixed with sadness batter against his insides and spreading through his veins. _Get your shit together. You can't break down in public._

A beat.

_It's okay. It's okay. Breathe._

And that’s all he does for about a minute, while also trying to suppress the shakes of his body. A shy glance at Jaehyun shows that his jaw muscles are clenched, his gaze dark as he glares at something on a wall. His anger is almost palpable. It makes Taeyong feel bad. He's painting Johnny out to be such a bad person but he really isn't-

“It's not all him. I let this go on for too long. I was too scared,” he rambles, shocked when his voice comes out raspier than he expects.

_Why is he saying this? Why is he still trying to make excuses for Johnny's behaviours? He's done with this. Absolutely done- fuck. Okay, he should calm down first. Breathe, just breathe._

Jaehyun narrows his eyes, like something clicks closer in place. (Had he always been so observant?) He shakes his head and interjects, “You can't possibly believe that.”

Taeyong doesn't believe it. He knows there is a clear divide of blame and responsibility. But he also knows deep down, he is far harder on himself than he should be.

“I do. Listen to me. I was too scared to step away from something that I grew comfortable with. I was warned. I knew it would happen, I just didn't think it would happen again. But it didn't matter, because I still knew.”

Jaehyun’s hands ball into fists. “This isn't right. I don't know what the full picture is, but I can't see how this is your fault. The problem didn't start with you.”

_He's right. You know he's right. Listen to him._

Taeyong shakes his head. “But I let it go on for much longer than I should've. I knew. I thought it would change-” he stutters, choking on his breath. He tries to form the words, but no sound comes from his mouth. He turns around again, facing the wall and soothing out his breathing in an effort to calm his emotions. No, he will not give.

The tension that hangs in the air is so thick it stifles Taeyong. The quietness rings in his ears, and the views of New York play through his mind. He squeezes his eyes shut and wills everything to stop. _Just, stop. Stop spinning. Stop feeling. Stop breathing. **Stop.**_

Jaehyun doesn't say anything, but he reads the discomfort in the lines of Taeyong's body and looks around. He considers Taeyong's hand for a split second, but reaches for his arm and pulls him away from prying eyes and ears. They walk to a set of emergency stairs just down from Taeyong's room which provides more privacy. It wouldn't be good if Johnny walked in on them, discussing about something that isn't any of Jaehyun’s business. Or worse, if he's in the room and overhears everything through the door.

Then, with slow minutes, Taeyong calms down. They’re close to his room now, which is good. He’ll pack, check into his flight, check out of the hotel, and the nightmare in New York will be over.

_But it also means they're getting closer to splitting ways. He'll be left alone-_

_No, this is wrong. Tell Jaehyun you're fine, that you have this under control. It doesn't involve him. Let him go._

Jaehyun keeps a wary eye on Taeyong, and looks surprised when Taeyong reaches for his arm.

_Just keep it together, Taeyong. You can do this._

“Yes?”

“I’m okay.”

Jaehyun isn’t convinced as anger bursts from his core. He stares at Taeyong, daring him to continue, and Taeyong stills at the intensity in his eyes. “You're clearly not okay. If you need to stay an extra day I can arrange something at the hotel. I'll even talk to the airline to delay your flight. You don't need to do this, not this minute. We can always figure something out.”

Taeyong stops him from moving. His eyes harden to a glare. “Jaehyun, don't.”

Jaehyun glares back defiantly. “You can't expect me to do nothing. I'm not heartless.”

“You know I need this.”

“I don't think so.”

“I’m not a damsel-”

“-in distress. I know. You didn't call me last night, not even when you had my number. We could've talked it out, or at the very least I could’ve distracted you from it. It didn’t have to come to this point.” Jaehyun looks away, like it hurts to maintain eye contact. “I know you don't need my help, but please recognize how fucking difficult it is in my position to do nothing for you.”

The fury in Jaehyun's eyes and words gives Taeyong pause. Jaehyun cares so much.

“I,” his breath hitches. “I didn't think it was- that last night was… I'm sorry.”

It isn’t the reaction Jaehyun expects.

He catches Taeyong's hand in his, squeezing his fingers just shy of pain. “I’m not your responsibility. I just wanted to make sure you were okay, but I know my boundaries. I,” he pulls away, stepping out of Taeyong's reach. “I'm sorry for imposing. I won't do anything without your permission.”

“Sometimes I wonder if it's what I need, someone to come into my life and fix everything.” Taeyong smiles crookedly, the tension bleeding out of his muscles. The switch from fight or flight to dejected complacency is obvious, and it loosens a knot in Jaehyun's stomach. “But no, you're right. It's not what I need. I need to… be better.”

Jaehyun doesn't know what to say.

“One last hug?”

Jaehyun wordlessly opens his arms, and Taeyong walks into the embrace. Taeyong feels his body shaking against Jaehyun’s and presses himself closer to this warmth, the steady beating heart under his ear. They don't let go.

“You're strong, believe in yourself,” Jaehyun whispers, ignoring the little voice reminding him of the hotel regulations. “You’ll be okay.”

Taeyong shakes his head, burying his face closer into his shoulder. Again and again, little by little, he feels his resolve build, break, and build once more.

“I’ve always been afraid that I won't have anyone in the end of all this,” he whispers, voice wavering as he admits his deepest fear. “That I won’t have anything. I won't matter, you won't be able to find me even if you came looking.”

“Shut up,” Jaehyun growls fiercely. He pulls away, glaring hotly at Taeyong's surprised expression. “You're not allowed to say that until you give it your best shot. You do matter. Your friends are there for you, and you have me. I still need to visit Korea, so you can plan my vacation.”

A thousand thoughts and feelings course through Taeyong's mind, heart and veins, to all over. Oh, how he wishes this were the case. How he wants this to work out, that somehow it would be easy and less emotionally draining. If only things were different, if he… if Johnny…

But Jaehyun, Jaehyun is here holding him, staring at him with an unwavering gaze of support and something… and Taeyong feels like shit for putting the both of them in this situation.

The tears fall before he realizes.

He snaps backwards, wiping them furiously and avoiding Jaehyun's gaze. No, no more of this. He's done crying. He's spent a whole night mourning over the loss of Johnny, the loss of a big part of him. He's not about to stay stuck in the mud while he has the chance to reset, to bounce back, even if he's scared. He needs to push through, to get better, then, to make room. If not for Jaehyun, then for someone else.

Jaehyun is right, he can do it.

“I'll message you,” Taeyong says, pausing between breaths. It doesn't help that new tears follow the path of the first. But he knows he’s starting to heal, albeit slowly.

“...I'd appreciate that, thank you.”

It feels too intimate to hug, at least to Jaehyun. But Taeyong's damp eyes are twinkling in a way that speaks of hope and life, and Jaehyun finds himself taking a small step forward too.

“I’ll message you,” Taeyong repeats, smiling as Jaehyun’s warm ember scent invades his senses and calms his nerves. “I promise I will.”

“I promise I’ll find you, too. So don’t disappear.”

“I won't. But you need to come find me.”

“I will.”

Taeyong thinks, drawing back. “One more thing.”

“Hm?”

It takes one look from Jaehyun to know where this is going. When Taeyong makes his request, Jaehyun nods with a soft sigh. Taeyong doesn’t hesitate to reach out to him again, wrapping his arms under Jaehyun's arms to pull himself closer to the man. Jaehyun squeezes into the embrace just as tightly.

“Take care.”

“You too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I deliberated on the best way to tell this story, and decided to split the last chapter into several pieces. As of here, the story has ended. What follows is the epilogue, because I don't think I'll be able to handle the amount of screaming (mostly me at myself, tbh). It will come soon, hopefully as salve to soothe the burning it's caused. This is beta'd by the lovely [wendy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImJaebabie). To all those who commented, kudos'd, bookmarked, subscribed, read and enjoyed this: Thank you, thank you, thank you.


	7. epilogue

Jaehyun idly thumbs the corner of his train ticket as he leans into his seat, watching the rural scenery blend into the cityscape. He ignores how his heart pounds unnaturally loud in his ears and how excited he feels. He tries to convince himself that it’s because this is his first time travelling alone, which it is. It’s why he’s done extensive research on the city he was born in but is largely foreign to.

The view that greeted him outside of Incheon was one with buildings that looked the same, with some greenery and a wide river along the way. The city settled into view, with mostly new and tall buildings lining the fore, middle, and background for as far as his eyes can see.

While New York is known for its population density, they’re actually placed at 114th in the world. Seoul has them beat at 6th place. Jaehyun stares at the rows of buildings on the other side of the window, and wonders what it’d be like to live in such a congested city.

The transportation seems very well designed and maintained, bringing people quickly and efficiently from one place to another. There are even barricades to stop accidents, and add as a visual and physical deterrent from those who want to commit suicide. The bridges, as it were, were a better choice.

Discarding that bit of grim information with a quick shake of his head, Jaehyun glances down at his phone and sees the yellow messages pop up. He didn't even have Kakaotalk until he met Taeyong. This thought is followed by a nervous feeling in his stomach, and he looks out the window again.

There were a few sentiments warring in his head ever since Taeyong left that day. The strongest of them was that he wanted to see the other man. And soon.

They talked a lot after Taeyong went back to Korea- mostly through Kakaotalk, though Jaehyun would sometimes react to a dance post on Taeyong’s instagram, and they would carry a brief conversation there. Most of those end up with Taeyong telling Jaehyun to come visit, so he can see what the whole hype is about. Jaehyun would reply in a roundabout way that he was working on it, and that was that.

Jaehyun smiles to himself, a little indulgently.

It doesn’t feel like it, but that had been four months ago. And, as Jaehyun had expected, Taeyong had nothing to worry about, at least not with regards to his job. Once news spread that he was to be a full-time dance instructor at Millenium Dance Complex in Seoul, students flocked from around the country to take part his classes. He started off with a twelve person class, then the class sizes grew and his time was booked up more than ever before. He now teaches a full five days a week, taking off the morning to rejuvenate, and days here and there to push and challenge himself with new choreography, revisit old lessons, and most importantly, have fun.

When Taeyong receives invites to gigs outside of the city, he tries to make weekend trips out of them. He doesn’t like to hurry from one gig to another, the rush just isn’t worth it, and the chance that he’ll be late for a class even less compelling. He’s hustled enough, it’s time to slow down and actually get to know his students. Most of them are kids, and he likes to take pictures with them to post as stories on his social media. (This was all done with the consent of themselves or their guardians, as an NDA was distributed when students, old or young, signed up for a class at Millennium.)

Jaehyun would often smile fondly at those between shifts, a bright warm light bouncing off his profile while he accompanied Andre at the bar. He had some paperwork to get to, but he’d much rather soak in the dimmed, enveloping ambiance of the bar than crunching numbers under a harsh light in the hotel office. All things considered, he’d been sitting quite comfortably in the hotel manager seat for the last four months. No ghosts were sighted (as far as he was concerned), drama was minimal, some coffee beans were switched in favour of others, but Jamaican Blue Mountain remained a firm favourite on the menu.

He thought back to the letter Taeyong left with him, and smiled.

To be honest, it didn’t say much. In fact, he was beyond frustrated the first time he read it.

Trust Taeyong to give him a letter that outlined a general thanks for showing him around the city, for spending time with him, and highlighting some of the things they saw (ferries, ducks, children face-planting into the dirt at a park by the Brooklyn Bridge because their legs were unstable at best, but that was kind of funny and cute). The only thing that gave Jaehyun pause, thought, and a tiny bit of hope, was at the bottom where he signing off with a: “Love ya & take care, Taeyong.”

The last thing Taeyong had said to him was that he’d appreciate if Jaehyun didn’t check him out of the hotel, because he’d likely be doing that with Johnny and didn’t want any unnecessary conflict. In hindsight, it was a smart move. Had Taeyong come clean in the letter, Jaehyun would’ve had every reason to break his promise to Taeyong and punch Johnny in the face (knowing he would gladly do it again if he had the chance).

It took a few weeks of dancing around the subject, pretending everything was alright before Jaehyun went for the question. By then, Taeyong had already found a rhythm to life, made friends and work connections, found cool roommates who didn’t care about his sexual orientation, and was doing better than he was in New York. Taeyong probably knew it was coming, too. He didn’t sound surprised when Jaehyun finally broached the topic.

According to Taeyong, Johnny was with Ten that evening and morning, which was what kept him from Taeyong’s rehearsed break up talk. Taeyong had already packed everything when Johnny showed up, looking guiltier and more apologetic than Taeyong had ever seen. Both of their masks cracked at the same time.

Taeyong had a feeling it would come to this, because the world often worked that way, that when you thought you had it under control, it would spiral just out of your expectation, but not entirely out of reach. It was a struggle, and he loathed to admit that more tears fell, but he buckled down and told Johnny how he truly felt. He admitted that he had known years ago, and that Yuta had warned him. He warred with voices that told him it was a bad decision, that it  _ was _ a show of strength that allowed him to continue, that his self worth was not as important as what Johnny meant to him. His voice broke in several parts, body shaking with anger, sadness, and fatigue all mixed into a dangerous concoction. Johnny ducked his head in shame, refusing to meet Taeyong's eyes.

At that point, Taeyong was halfway between growing impassive (because he'd anticipated this all fucking along) and extending the olive branch. He wanted this to end, more than anyone else, but he held his tongue.

But Johnny had melted into a sobbing mess. He broke down far more than Taeyong anticipated, and it was with equal parts of grim satisfaction and soundless heartbreak that rooted Taeyong to the spot, hearing Johnny out. Johnny came clean, messily and with every ounce of remorse he could muster, admitting that he didn't deserve Taeyong.

It was then when Taeyong realized that he may have been the point of change for Johnny, forcing him to either recognize that he cannot be without Ten (which was so disgustingly, hopelessly romantic it made Taeyong's blood boil) or that he had to deal with his bullshit cheating behaviour (more than reasonable, in light of their failed relationship). He coldly told Johnny to sort his shit out if he really felt bad, because he'd hate to be another Yuta, sabotaging his next relationship before Johnny did it himself.

After all that was said and done, they left the hotel, settled in separate seats  _ far _ away from each other on the flight, and went home separately. Johnny stayed over at a friend's, and Taeyong had the apartment to himself. They stopped seeing each other. But the empty apartment didn't last long. Taeyong found two roommates, Seungcheol and Jonghyun (senior finance analyst and realty agent, respectively), and spent the rest of his breathing minutes on the addiction of dancing and teaching.

Millennium was by no means a small name. To teach there you had to have the correct fit of mind and body. Attitude and professionalism were prioritized above all, which was why Taeyong ate the snacks Jaehyun sent over in secret. Body being the temple of life sounded great on paper, but snacks were far more tempting.

The train pulls to a full stop.

Jaehyun switches to a city bus from the Gangnam South Bus Terminal, and in another twenty minutes, arrives at his great uncle's place. His great uncle isn't home, but he told Jaehyun what his apartment password was, so Jaehyun lets himself in. Dropping off his bags, he goes to the nearby convenience store for basic toiletries, leaves a message for his uncle to announce his arrival, and tumbles out the door again.

He makes a quick call. It’s awkward when he knows he speaks Korean with an American accent, but he pushes through and finishes the call with a quick  _ Thank you _ . He briefly wonders how many more cultural differences he'll experience.

According to the front desk/operator person at Millenium, Taeyong will be finishing his class at 5 PM, which is in half an hour. It’ll take a little more than that to get to Millennium.

…

He didn't tell Taeyong he would be visiting.

He swings his messenger bag across his body, and his heart beat picks up again. A pink warmth spreads across his cheeks to the tip of his ears.

It might backfire on him.

Taeyong might have other plans, and there is no other reason for Jaehyun to keep his visit a secret other than the fact that he wants to surprise Taeyong. But he doesn't want his visit to weigh Taeyong down. It's one thing to force a promise on Taeyong to show him around Seoul, another completely to have it fulfilled. Plus, with all that's actually said and done (and the 4 months in between), he doesn't really know where he stands with the other man. For all he knows, Taeyong has moved on and is currently seeing other people.

His hand tightens around the bag strap, and a frown knits his brows together. Either way, dropping by to say hi would be the least intrusive. He genuinely wants to visit his hometown, it’s where he’s from. He has every reason to come back and find out more about his culture, his heritage. Identity too, maybe.

Taeyong’s dance class runs a little late, so Jaehyun catches the last seconds of Taeyong's choreography.

Man, does he look amazing.

Observing the wide smile of satisfaction pulling at Taeyong's lips, Jaehyun realizes the man he met in New York was but a sliver of the man in front of him. He's so expressive, happy, and present. His eyes burn intensely, flowing like liquid obsidian as he wraps up his class and turns the music off. The students spill out of the classroom with loud complains of getting demolished, and a few young, eager dancers stay back to ask Taeyong questions.

Taeyong easily addresses his students’ yell-over-each-other questions with quick fire responses. He looks right at home. Jaehyun doesn't catch some of it, but it sounds like the students were asking about isolation and flexibility training. Feeling out of place, he lingers to the side of the door. He doesn't wait long.

A woman with short pink hair ushers the remaining people out, and a new crop of students spill into the room, quickly taking up the spots and pulling into a set of stretches.

Jaehyun side-steps the stampede of interchanging students as Taeyong walks out, and that's when he meets his gaze. They freeze.

Not knowing how else to greet him, Jaehyun opts for a single wave.

With a quick dismissal, Taeyong extricates himself from his students before jogging up to him. If his eyes were bright and expressive during class, they are positively sparkling now.

“What the fuck are you doing here!”

Whelp.

Jaehyun chuckles sheepishly, pulling a bag of assorted American snacks from behind him. “Special delivery?”

Taeyong doesn't wait. He launches himself up and wraps his arms around Jaehyun's neck, pressing their bodies close and-

Wow, that's a lot of sweat.

“That's disgusting, get off me,” Jaehyun complains, wrapping his arms tighter around Taeyong's body to pull the other man impossibly closer until the sweat seeps through the layers and he feels it on his skin. That probably didn't happen, but it almost feels like it is, or maybe his mind is playing tricks on him.

Taeyong is real. He's in his arms,  _ and he’s happy- _

Taeyong laughs, bright and throaty, and he finally lets go, taking a step back. A stray thought enters Jaehyun's brain, that Taeyong sounds rather sexy when breathless and sweaty after dance class- okay hold your horses...

“That better be for me.”

Taeyong's fingers try to pry the bag out of Jaehyun's hand, which is almost flirty and adorable, and Jaehyun doesn't know how many seconds pass before he manages a gurgled, “Actually, they're not.”

It feels like minutes. His brain short circuits when Taeyong flashes him with a surprised look, immediately stepping back and putting a respectable distance between them. Oh.

Jaehyun smiles quickly, crookedly, and throws the bag of snacks into Taeyong's hands. “Kidding.”

Taeyong smiles wryly too, sneaking a peek into the bag. “You almost had me. What did you get?”

Jaehyun snorts. “New Yorker sarcasm, you can hardly hold it against me. And they’re things you haven't tried before.”

Taeyong breaks into another wide grin, and Jaehyun feels his heart flutter. “Snack party!”

“Maybe not so loud, we're still at Millennium.” Jaehyun grins too. “Are you free?”

Taeyong jumps to action. “Oh my gosh what am I doing. Yes. I hope  _ you're _ free. How was your flight? Did you just land? How long are you staying for? I can't believe you didn't tell me you'll be coming! Do you have a place to stay? I have an extra couch if you need-”

Taeyong drags Jaehyun into the change room, waving off the questioning glances from his fellow instructors. He looks right at home, and his Korean is so fast, Jaehyun wonders if Taeyong felt the way he does when he was in New York.

“One thing at a time,” he teases, putting a hand on Taeyong's arm that is currently tugging him through the lockers and towards showers. “I'll wait outside. We can talk after you shower.”

Taeyong pouts, (pouts!) but he does as told. Jaehyun shows himself out, because he doesn't feel comfortable being in the change room while Taeyong showers, and shuffles to the front desk area.

A woman with jet black hair cropped to her jawline shoots him a quick smile, and the woman to her left, one with long pastel pink and purple hair gives him a none-too-subtle once over. Her hair reminds him of bubblegum.

“Hey,” he greets.

“Hey,” the dark haired woman replies curtly.

“Are you guys dating?” Bubblegum asks.

Jaehyun blinks. “Uh… no?”

“What's your name?”

“My name is Jaehyun,” he replies in a textbook kind of way.

Bubblegum catches on. “You're not from around here, are you?”

“New York, actually.”

“Are you a dancer?”

“No, I work in hotel management.”

She hums contemplatively. “Pity.”

He blinks, then remembers how Taeyong thought he was a dancer. “Do I look like I can dance well?”

Bubblegum looks at the dark haired woman and shrugs. “No, but you’re here.”

Jaehyun snorts, then catches himself before he rolls his eyes. That’s probably rude in Korean culture as well.

Out of boredom and possibly pity, the black haired woman places a well-intentioned hand on Bubblegum and meets his gaze with a polite smile. “Are you interested in dance?”

“I'm not against it, but I haven't danced in a long time.”

She smiles, recognizing the look in his eyes. “It's never too late to learn. I’ve had beginner students twice, three times your age, they catch on. You should give it a shot.”

“I’ll only be staying for a few days.”

“Class is an hour each. I’m sure Taeyong has one you can guest in.”

“Guest?”

“He's normally booked up.”

Jaehyun hums thoughtfully. “Okay, well, I’ll think about it.”

Bubblegum smiles, leaning against the desk and resting her chin on her palm. “What other plans do you have?”

Jaehyun counts on his fingers. “For now I was thinking to go to some museums, temples, food markets, um, fish markets-”

“Do you drink?” The black haired girl interrupts.

“Of course.”

“Chicken and beer.” She recommends with an air of resolution. “You haven't had good chicken and beer until you try it in Korea. It's a whole other ball game.”

Jaehyun grins. “I'll give it a shot.”  
  


A while later, his phone buzzes and he sees a snap of him, from Taeyong, and looks up to see the man waving at him with a shy smile. The two women from the front desk are nowhere to be found. Taeyong's dark hair is damp, his skin clear and fresh. Jaehyun catches a whiff of a clean floral scent.

“Ready?”

Jaehyun nods quickly. “What am I ready for?”

“You'll see.”

“What's up with the secrecy?” Jaehyun asks, a knowing twinkle in his eyes.

Taeyong shrugs, wearing an easy grin. “I wonder. I might’ve picked it up from someone.”

“Yeah? Whoever that might be has a penchant for mystery.”

“Mystery? Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

The air is a touch colder and hinted with the smell of spring when they exit the dance studio. Taeyong nudges Jaehyun into a direction, and they start walking. No conversation is forthcoming, but it's a comfortable silence. After a moment, Taeyong meets Jaehyun's seeking gaze and quirks a questioning brow. “What's up?”

Jaehyun shakes his head with an amused look in his eyes. “I didn't think this was going to happen. We met in New York and now here we are.”

Taeyong hums with a knowing grin. “The world feels a little smaller, doesn't it?”

“I've forgotten how big the world is, despite interacting with travellers day in and out,” Jaehyun admits, inclining his head. “I knew, but I didn't live it.”

“It's different, to know something and to live that reality.”

“Yeah, that's it.”

They share a small smile.

“We're going back to my place so I can drop my stuff off, then we'll be out the rest of the night. Hope you're wearing comfortable shoes.”

Jaehyun's eyes widen in a dramatic, comical way. “Aren't we moving a little fast?”

Taeyong turns the corner sharply, he almost loses Jaehyun. “If you thought New Yorkers moved fast, think again.”

Jaehyun narrowly stops himself from barking out in laughter. “I see what you did there.”

Taeyong snickers.

They walk past several food stalls off to the side of the road and Jaehyun visibly perks up if only to try peering through the veils to catch the magic inside.

“Does this bring back memories?” Taeyong asks curiously.

“It does. I remember using puppy eyes on my English teacher when I saw her at one of these food stalls- they’re… po-jan-ma-”

“Pojangmacha.”

“Pojangmacha. Ended up getting free bungeo-ppang.”

Taeyong laughs at Jaehyun’s snooty expression. “You little shit.”

“Everything is fair in the face of good food.”

They go through a pair of gates before reaching the base of Taeyong’s apartment, and Taeyong waves to the security ambling by the elevator doors. They take the elevators up to the 4th floor, where Taeyong gestures Jaehyun to follow him. His door clicks open automatically, and Taeyong pushes the door open with a gentle shove.

“Try not to touch anything,” Taeyong warns half-heartedly. “Close the door before the cats try to escape.”

He disappears around the corner before Jaehyun replies, the latter about to ask a question about the cat until the tabby in question peeks out from behind the kitchen cupboards. A round grey and black tabby with big, curious olive eyes and short legs.

“A munchkin?” Jaehyun asks, swiftly closing the door behind him.

The cat looks at the door, then back at him, and scuttles over with his short legs. It’s a poor attempt at stealth, but the cat’s cuteness makes up for its lack of finesse. Jaehyun takes his shoes off and slowly approaches the feline who eyes him curiously from the kitchen counter.

“That’s Mi.”

“‘Mi’?”

“Short for Migoreng.”

Jaehyun pauses mid-pet, Mi already nuzzling affectionately into his palm. “I don’t suppose you’d have a ‘Myeon’ as well?”

Taeyong’s head pokes out from his room and gives Jaehyun the straightest face he can muster. “How did you know? That’s the orange Norwegian Forest cat. He’s usually hiding under the couch when strangers are around.”

Sure enough, when Jaehyun falls to his hands and knees by the couch, he sees two round, yellow ochre eyes staring back at him, pupils wide and curious despite his hidden state. Jaehyun makes little cooing noises to get Myeon out, but the big cat doesn’t budge.

“Norwegian forest, huh? Aren’t they supposed to be big and courageous? Why is this one hiding?”

Taeyong pads out of his room, having changed into out of his casual gym clothes. He’s now wearing black jeans that are torn in five places (that Jaehyun can see), a white sweater with some NASA script running down the arms, and a simple chain necklace peeking from the edge of the collar. Jaehyun admits he stares a bit. “Because he has his priorities straight. It makes sure he won’t run off with just anyone.”

Taeyong crouches low and lures Myeon out with the kibble, giving Jaehyun a nice view of his glutes. Jaehyun appropriately coughs into his fist and looks away.

Meanwhile, Mi jumps from the counter and silently makes his way over to the food, ears perked in alert. He’s still purring. Jaehyun shakes his head and dispels any thoughts of pushing Taeyong to a wall, and takes a deep breath before peppering Mi with attention again.

“Anymore cats I should be aware of?” He clears his throat awkwardly, turning his attention away to scratch the back of Mi’s ears with unwavering interest.

Taeyong nods to his a room down the hall. “Ti is usually in my roommate’s room. Have you taken care of cats before?”

“Ti? Like, spaghetti?”

“The very one.”

Jaehyun rolls his eyes skyward, like asking,  _ Who gave these people naming rights. _

Taeyong smiles to himself, and after a short moment, Myeon, short for Ramyeon, cautiously crawls out from under the couch and edges closer to Taeyong’s kibble. “Genius, isn’t it?” He whispers, gently scratching Myeon’s chin. The cat steals the kibble and eats quickly.

Jaehyun ignores the rhetorical question. “My grandma used to have a cat. I’d play with him whenever I visited, because there was no one else my age to play with. She and my parents would be talking about… well, they just talked a lot. That’s all I remember.”

“Adults do talk a lot. We’re kinda like that now, too.”

Jaehyun hums contemplatively as Mi paws at his leg, whining to be picked up, in feline language. “This one isn’t scared of strangers at all, is he?”

Taeyong grins wryly as Jaehyun picks Mi up. “He’s a dog, he gives love to everyone.”

Ti doesn’t come out from the hushed talking, probably in the middle of a dream, so Taeyong promises to send Jaehyun pictures later. Not that Jaehyun asked. According to Taeyong, Ti is not a very social cat. He prefers the warm nest of Jonghyun’s clothes as opposed to the dome-shaped scratching board in the living room, which Myeon is currently sharpening his claws on. Mi, on the other hand, has all but melted into a puddle in Jaehyun’s arms, purring so loudly it rumbles his entire chest.

Having had enough of this, Taeyong looks pointedly at the door. Jaehyun catches it a moment later.

“Is he always like this?” Jaehyun asks, regretfully letting the cat go so he can pull his shoes on.

Taeyong shakes his head with a glint of exasperation in his eyes. “I’ve never seen him this needy before.”

“Must be a handsome man thing.”

Taeyong scoffs at Jaehyun’s cheeky grin. “Must be.”

They end up taking a short walk to the subway station, then Taeyong complains loudly that T-money is nowhere near as tricky as a Metrocard, to which Jaehyun chuckles and taps his card on the sensor and is admitted a split second later. No sweat.

The ride to Hongdae area takes about half an hour, in which they spend catching up in hushed tones, Taeyong making Jaehyun share more ghost stories. He runs out of them two stories in (his hotel is not that exciting), and begins making up stories of his own for shits and giggles. Taeyong eventually catches on, and roughly shoves his shoulder in attempt to throw his balance off, but Jaehyun finds his footing easily and resumes laughing.

As they approach Hongik University station, the train car becomes populated with young people, and Jaehyun finds himself squeezing closer to Taeyong, who moves towards him a bit to share a pole with an older Korean woman. The muscle in Jaehyun’s jaw tightens and he looks down to avoid Taeyong’s eyes (because that’s dangerous territory, isn’t it?)… only to fall to his hand.

How far it was, four months ago, when he wanted to hold that hand in his, intertwine their fingers and pull Taeyong closer while New Yorkers spilled in from one side of the train, pushing them together. How far it was, four months ago, when Taeyong was going through a rough patch with his then boyfriend, while also figuring out things in life. It felt more than four months, but it also felt like it was yesterday.

How close that hand is now, four months later.

The emotions that were buried rise up again, and Jaehyun ducks his head lower to hide the pink that he knows will be brightly apparent on his cheeks.

He takes a few deep breaths, and waits for the emotions to pass.

Three stops later, Taeyong pats on his shoulder and gestures for them to get off. More than half of the train alights as well, so they find themselves slowly waddling out of the train, up a few sets of elevators, and onto street level.

The sun is starting to set, casting the sky in a brilliant shade of coral and violet. From the look of Taeyong’s expression, Jaehyun thinks that he’s not the only one who is remembering that time from four months ago, when they were walking back to Jaehyun’s hotel after Taeyong's dance class.

“I didn’t ask, but I hope you’re in the mood for some chicken and beer. It’s what I crave when I come back.”

Jaehyun nods, surprised that Taeyong suggested the same thing as his coworkers. Fried chicken and beer must be a big deal. “And I thought you said being a dancer meant you had to watch out for your diet?”

Taeyong shoves his shoulder, an easy-going grin playing about his lips. “Don’t give me body image issues, I work hard to keep myself looking this good. I’m just celebrating because a friend flew halfway across the world to see me.”

Jaehyun hums at the word friend, but doesn’t push it. “On that note, what did you do with that bag of snacks? It’s not meant to be eaten alone.”

“What did I say about giving me body image issues?” Taeyong scrunches his nose and lets out a low chuckle. “I’ll share it with my roommates.”

“Just saying, I don’t want to be blamed for fattening you up with snacks,” Jaehyun teases lightly.

“I guess it’d be done out of love then, wouldn’t it?”

“Uh.”

“I mean, love for snacks.”

“Sure.”

There is an awkward pause.

“So anyway, here we are-”

Taeyong leads them down a wide path that used to be train tracks, later on converted to a green area with blooming small businesses down the path.

“It's a new initiative by the government, intending to give young people a free space to spend outdoors. Free as in they are not obligated to pay to be here, because these spaces  _ are _ important,” Taeyong explains, slowing down as they reach a small break of traffic lights. On either side is a narrow river running through where the track used to be, the sound of couples giggling twinkles through the air. Jaehyun shifts his weight and takes the scenery in.

It’s strange, in a welcoming kind of way, to explore a city that he’s mostly foreign to (with only childhood memories and a rusty mother tongue) and with a friend he’s only known for a few days to guide him. He’s not a hermit, but to be as open as Taeyong was when he first asked Jaehyun to show him around… it’s not something he can see himself doing.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

It takes Jaehyun a while to articulate them.

“There is a place similar to this in New York. Train tracks that were no longer used was converted to a park, but it's nowhere near as lively as this. This feels much more integrated into the lives of young people, and… are those apartment buildings?”

Taeyong looks to where Jaehyun is pointing at and nods. “Yeah, the whole area is getting revamped. With more people moving in, businesses are popping up left, right and centre. The youthful area is still in the deep pockets of Hongdae, but the older crowd likes to hang around these parts now.”

After a pause, Taeyong understands the expression on Jaehyun’s face and his eyes soften. “It’s a bit like home, isn’t it?”

“It is and it isn’t. I’m just glad you’re here to show me around, I think I might get lost otherwise.”

Taeyong smiles, he remembers those words.

“Where’s the restaurant?”

“Over there.”

Taeyong leads them to a two storied wooden structure with windows wide open. They're directed to the top floor and seated near a window, where the cool spring air lingers around them. The interior is decorated with (strangely enough) cowboy paraphernalia, has couches and cushioned arm chairs for seats and little round wooden tables for sizzling plates of chicken. All in all, it is very unique.

A small space heater is placed by their feet, and Taeyong moves a little closer to it.

“Cold?” Jaehyun asks.

“Just a bit.”

Jaehyun thoughtlessly removes his jacket, and Taeyong immediately steals it and places it over his lap with an indulgent grin. “Ever the gentleman.”

Jaehyun blinks at the flurry of movements, and shakes his head when he catches the twinkle in Taeyong's eye. “You just took it from my hands, but okay.”

They move onto the menu. Jaehyun, being a KFC virgin, has much to learn. Taeyong decides on a plate of sizzling fried chicken in kanjang and green onions.  _ It’s the basic,  _ he explains, and asks how much Jaehyun wants to drink.

“I can drink a lot, if you remember.”

Taeyong narrows his eyes at the side-handed insult of being a lightweight. “Not what you can drink, but how much you want to drink,” he clarifies.

Jaehyun makes a low contemplative sound. “I’ll have a pint. It’s my first day, I expect the jetlag to be hitting me pretty hard soon.”

Taeyong makes a noise like remembering. “Oh yeah. It’s morning in New York now, right?”

Jaehyun shrugs. “Something stupid early like 5, or 6?”

“You must be tired.”

Jaehyun shoots him a small grin. “You have no idea.”

Taeyong nods, making up his mind. “Alright, let’s make this quick then.” He waves the waiter over.

Jaehyun looks at the approaching waiter with a degree of alarm, and quickly shakes his head. “You don’t really need to. I’m still young- I can handle a late night.”

Taeyong raises an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth twitching. “We can hang out tomorrow too. I don’t have any plans after class. I’ll use the morning to plan my classes.” The waiter comes by, and he orders the chicken with two pints of Korean craft lagers.

Their drinks are served a moment later, and Jaehyun sips on the lager with a familiar relish, feeling the low buzz calming the jitter in his nerves.

After a pause, he exhales fully.

“This is kinda surreal,” he comments, profound.

Taeyong reads his expression and nods. There is a flash of amusement in his eyes. “It really is, even for me. I really didn’t expect you to... I didn’t expect to see you at all. Why didn’t you say anything?”

And maybe something from Taeyong’s expression puts Jaehyun’s nerves at rest, finally. He leans against the cushioned chair and lets out another long sigh. “Just thought it’d be a nice surprise, I guess.” He hides his lips behind the frosted glass.

Taeyong frowns. “You must be really tired.”

“Is it that obvious? I guess it’s because I’ve stopped moving, so the jetlag is finally catching up to me.”

Unperturbed, Taeyong continues, “And you’re doing that thing where you’re thinking a lot again.”

Confused, Jaehyun tilts his head and asks, “What?”

“You had the same look in your eyes last time, when… we had the chat in your hotel.”

The smile slips from Jaehyun’s face, and his eyes become a little hooded as he takes another sip of the beer before placing it on the table in front of them. “Eerie, how you can read me so well.”

Taeyong's lips pull into a crooked smile at the frank admission. “I thought the same about you from the first day we met, to be honest.”

Jaehyun sinks into the couch, and into his tired thoughts a little more. Finally, he corrects himself: “This is  _ very _ surreal.”

Taeyong hums quietly. “It does feel that way, doesn’t it?”

“It’s just that, the last time I saw you… the last time we saw each other, we were different. I hadn’t realized how much I’ve…”  _ thought about you, _ “I mean, you- you feel like a completely different person.”

Taeyong quirks his head. “What do you mean?”

Jaehyun finds the words in his head before he speaks. It takes some effort. “Like, I always knew the person I met was you, I just didn’t realize… what a small part of you that was. I thought I knew you.”

Taeyong hums lightheartedly. “I’d like to think it takes more than a few days to know all about me, if being a male and gay in Korea is not indicative of the amount of onion skins I wear.”

Jaehyun shakes his head. “That’s not what I meant-”

“I know, I was just teasing.” Taeyong smirks.

Jaehyun huffs, trying to gather his thoughts. Taeyong doesn’t interrupt much after that. The topic he's about to broach is not an easy one.

“Maybe I was a little presumptuous when we first met. I… do have a rule of thumb for this, I guess I forgot.”

“What's your rule of thumb?”

“That whatever I know about a person is an arbitrary 10% of who they are, that there is more to them than I will know. But… I'm not sure if this is like, applicable or not, but I've noticed this about everyone around me. There are things on their outsides that change, but the inside stays somewhat the same.”

Taeyong hums contemplatively, his mind rolling this bit of information around. “I can get behind that.”

Jaehyun looks shy for admitting something so frankly. “Well, it's just a theory anyway.”

“Where did you learn it from?”

“A friend.”

“Sounds like there’s a story behind this.”

“It’s not a story for over chicken and beer.”

Taeyong tilts his head in curiosity. “What would it be then?”

Jaehyun shrugs. “A couple Old Fashioned's and five shots of tequila, maybe.”

Taeyong whistles. “Talk about alcoholism.”

“Or maybe it was just a memory I’d rather not remember.”

“Or traumatic experience resulting in alcoholism.”

“Cheeky. Anyway, the point is I’m happy to see that you’re doing so well.”

“I- well, thank you. I’m glad to see myself doing really well, too.” The sentence starts off snarky, but Taeyong’s tone changes into something more introspective. “I didn’t think I’d bounce back so quickly. I mean, I knew I was done and over with… with him, but I didn’t think opportunities would open up to me so quickly.”

They drift off in a companionable silence, each in his own thoughts.

Eventually, the sizzling plate of Korean Fried Chicken is placed between them and Jaehyun takes the first big bite, making theatric sexy sounds as he’s eating to turn away Taeyong’s intent stare. Slowly, a proud, indulgent smile pulls at his lips. Jaehyun catches the look and slows down his feasting. When he asks Taeyong about it, Taeyong replies that he’s happy this chicken excites a hotel menu tester; it’s nice to get that stamp of approval.

Jaehyun smiles a little. “You do realize that I was lying when I said that I dictate my hotel’s menu, right?”

The smile drops immediately. “What.”

Jaehyun puts the chicken down before doubling over with laughter. “The look on your face! I’m a  _ hotel manager _ not a taste tester.”

Taeyong scowls, feeling his cheeks burn from embarrassment as Jaehyun calms down. “I didn’t see why you’d lie about that. I was clearly not in the right mind. Have some pity, asshat.”

“Oh, I have plenty of pity alright. You’re just so  _ gullible! _ ”

“That’s it. Not showing you around anymore. Was nice seeing you.”

Taeyong makes to stand, but Jaehyun’s hand is on his shoulder in the next second, preventing him from moving. “Sorry. Oh man. I really am sorry.” The cheeky smile on Jaehyun’s face is anything but apologetic. “Please keep me company. I need a local to be my tour guide.”

“And you had the  _ gall _ to say you’ve never lied to me,” Taeyong sneers, glaring hotly at Jaehyun’s grinning face.

Jaehyun calms down until all that’s left of the humour is a soft smile on his face. “I  _ do _ have some influence, but I’m not the final judge. I just like to eat.”

Taeyong shakes his head, feeling extremely put off. “What about the food you claimed you made that first night? Was that also another half-lie, a white lie?”

“Everything else is true, I promise.”

Taeyong huffs and makes a big pout, and Jaehyun feels the inexplicable urge to kiss him, but also to laugh in his face. It’s a bit of a struggle to bite his laughter down. So what he does is debone a chicken wing and shoves it into Taeyong’s mouth.

“!”

“Chew, there are no bones.”

Taeyong chews obediently, eyes wide as he eats a boneless chicken wing for the first time. It’s a pretty mind blowing experience if his expressions are anything to go by. Jaehyun laughs and grabs another wing for himself.

“How was your cooking course?”

“Rudimentary for the most part, but I learned how to debone a fish, so now I’m doing that for all the fresh catches of the day.”

Taeyong raises a sarcastic brow. “Riveting. Are you sure it wasn’t chicken wings you were deboning?”

Jaehyun snorts, ignoring the jab. “It is when you don’t choke on fish bone.”

“That wouldn’t be a problem if you ate with chopsticks, and very, very carefully.”

“It’s a liability on the hotel if we got a patron choking on fish bone. Also, lots of people in New York don’t know how to use chopsticks well enough to pick fish bones out with them.”

Taeyong smiles. “Fair.”

There’s a long pause, with an imminent question hanging in the air between them.

“Okay, yes, I’ll cook if you have a kitchen for me.”

Taeyong laughs loudly now, eyes crinkling all pretty and lips turning into a bright, warm smile. Jaehyun subtly looks away. “Of course you will, I started you on this.”

Jaehyun doesn’t correct him, and the look in his eyes makes Taeyong think he’s hit the nail on the head.  
  


When they finish their food and pay (Taeyong insists to get the bill, because Jaehyun had flown all the way over to see him), Taeyong directs them through the park, back the way they came.

The sun has set, casting the sky in a dark blue hue. The street lamps flicker on one by one down the path, and Jaehyun falls into steps just behind Taeyong, his cheeks flushed pink despite only having had one beer. When he stumbles from the uneven interlock pavement, Taeyong catches him with a strong hand around his arm.

“Think you’ll be fine getting home on your own?”

“I think? I’m less lost than you were in NYC, if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

“Why are you trying to make a competition out of everything? And yes, I know, I have a really bad sense of direction despite being a more experienced traveller.”

Jaehyun squints as he reads Taeyong’s expression, and breaks into a wide grin when he gets it. “Are you offering to walk me home?”

Taeyong feigns nonchalance. “If we’re going in the same direction, I don’t see why I shouldn’t return the favour.”

They take the escalators down to the subway, and Taeyong taps his T-money onto the sensor before being admitted when he hears Jaehyun mumble: “It’s not a favour though.”

And Taeyong thinks to himself, it was a poor choice of words, because neither is this.

Jaehyun is wearing a small, dopey smile with half-lidded, tired eyes as he tumbles into the subway. As usual, the car is extremely full around this time (because the Korean night life just doesn’t end), so they’re squished immediately against each other. Taeyong quickly, instinctively looks away .

So does Jaehyun. Only... his eyes fall low again, eyeing the back of Taeyong’s hand with interest.

“Would… would it be out of the question now, to hold your hand?” He asks in low whisper.

Taeyong stills, eyes scanning over Jaehyun’s face, then down to their hands, where Jaehyun’s index hooks with his pinky.

“It wouldn’t be,” Taeyong replies softly.

Their rosy cheeks can be contributed to the drinking. But their speeding hearts, especially Jaehyun’s, have nothing to do with the beer and everything to do with each other. Jaehyun thinks to himself that he might faint from how much this feeling is expanding in his chest. But at the same time, he knows he shouldn’t let these feelings get the better of him. It’s not the rush, it was never about the rush. It’s only ever been Taeyong.

The outside changes, but the inner core stays mostly the same.

“This isn’t some tired drunkenness talking, is it?” Taeyong asks anyway, because he wants this, and he needs to make sure.

“It isn’t. I’ve wanted this for a while now.”

The honesty in his eyes makes Taeyong blush, but he doesn’t look away.

“I’m still healing. I know I look like I’ve got it together, that I’m happy, but I’m still healing.”

“I know.”

“You’ll be far away.”

“Isn’t that technically you, since we met in New York?”

Instead of playing along with the tease, Taeyong’s brows draw together into a frown. “You’re not asking me to move to New York, are you?”

Jaehyun shakes his head once. “No, that wouldn’t make sense. I’m not here to uproot you.”

The corners of Taeyong’s lips turn downwards. “Then how will this work?”

“Have more faith. It’s long distance, not the end of the world.”

Taeyong snorts softly despite himself. “Those are hardly fair comparisons.”

The train pulls to their stop, and there is a shred of hesitation in their eyes as they let go. Taeyong leads them out of the train and up a set of stairs. They silently maneuver the side-streets, cloaked in the shadows of short apartment buildings and the soft hum of families winding down to welcome the evening.

They still don’t speak, not until they reach the foot of Jaehyun’s great uncle’s apartment.

Then Taeyong turns to Jaehyun and opens his arms with a small smile.

Jaehyun rushes forward and throws himself into the hug.

“I’ve kept my promise. I can keep more,” he mutters into the crown of Taeyong’s hair.

“Thank you- for keeping your promise.” Taeyong’s breath hitches in the middle, but he wills his tears away. It’s not a moment to be sad.

“I won’t ask you to move. We’ll work something out I promise. I’m here for you. But I need to know that you won’t give up on yourself.”

“I won’t. I’ve come this far and not looked back once. I won’t. I just won’t.”

“Good. Because I can’t. I don’t want to leave you again not know how you will be.”

They break their embrace, eyes glistening with unshed tears. It’s becoming too raw, but that’s okay. It’s okay because they have each other.

“Then you’ll have to take good care of me, won’t you?” Taeyong jokes, smile wobbly under the faraway lamppost. Jaehyun isn’t faring better.

“Guess I’ll have to.”

“Idiot.”

“I won’t argue with that logic. No one in their right minds would like you-”

Taeyong pushes Jaehyun against the wall and crushes their lips together. He moves his lips experimentally against Jaehyun’s, feeling the other overcoming the surprise and kissing back just as feverently. One of Jaehyun’s hands starts from the base of Taeyong’s neck, carding up through his thick locks while the other settles on his hip, a warm grip holding him close. Not letting him go.

Jaehyun’s tongue runs experimentally against the seam of Taeyong’s lips, only to be granted entry a moment later. Then he drinks in Taeyong’s taste like someone who is only held back by a thread of caution while the rest wages war to have more.

Taeyong moans softly into the kiss as he tightens his arms around Jaehyun’s neck, pulling them closer and relishing every point of contact. His heart sings from the heat emanating from Jaehyun’s body, and his mind, a jumbled mess of thoughts, comes to an alarming clarity: Jaehyun is not a rebound. This is (mostly) not the heat of the moment.

There is more to this, and he’s willing to take the risk.

Jaehyun cups Taeyong’s ass and pulls him closer still, wedging a knee between his legs and settling more comfortably against the wall so they can kiss more easily, languidly, almost like they’re getting to know each other again.

And they are.

After the initial rush, he begins to pick up the clues. Taeyong inhales sharply as he grinds a little against his offered knee, feeling their attraction pressed uncomfortably against tight fabric (-and he should’ve offered to walk Taeyong home instead!-). A hand brushing along Taeyong’s side tells him he’s more ticklish than he lets on, and the quiet moans escaping his throat are more involuntary than conscious. The pink across Taeyong’s nose and cheeks is mostly from the beer, but the stormy dark eyes that regard him in slits are all him.

Jaehyun smirks into the kiss.

But he doesn’t try to change their position, letting Taeyong lead them wherever he wants, because there’s no other place Jaehyun would rather be, anyway.

All too soon, they break apart to breathe, sporting matching red lips and glassy eyes.

It’s a silence they don’t want to break, it almost feels like a dream-

“This is not a dream,” Taeyong reassures, brushing a thumb against the pulse of Jaehyun’s neck, who shivers slightly from the contact.

“I know,” Jaehyun whispers against his lips, an aching earnestly in his eyes.

Taeyong smiles, hugging him tightly again.

“Thank you for coming here… for me.”

“Always.”

As the saying goes, lovers can’t stay apart for too long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap!
> 
> So I'm going to be honest with you. I've noticed an influx of fics that are about cheating and getting away with it, but they don't properly address the emotional and psychological repercussions of the other party. That was unfair and didn't sit well with me, so I decided to write my own, but from the perspective of the 'victim'. It's a story that's rarely told; the hurt, the consequences, especially without addressing the time and effort for someone to be "okay" again. I pray that I did the topic justice, and if you can relate to this without having to go through the heartbreak? Good. Cheating is not okay.
> 
> To all those who've followed this story from beginning to end, thank you for taking the time to read this. I know it's not an easy pill to swallow, but I'm thankful that you followed this, read what I wrote, the whole nine yards. Thank you also to [wendy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImJaebabie), for being my beta. I'm not sure I'd be able to write so coherently if it wasn't for you checking my work over. Eternally grateful.
> 
> Lastly, if you want to talk about this story, about upcoming stories (*cough* ARC *cough*) or life in general, you can find me here: [tw](https://twitter.com/pnkpxls) | [cc](http://curiouscat.me/n_kei)
> 
> Tread softly and take care,  
> Kei


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